Love Is
by msllamalover
Summary: Love is different for everyone. Sometimes it's easily missed or heavily disguised. Without a doubt, love is the most magical thing. Snippets of every imaginable relationship, for the 100 pairing challenge. Complete.
1. Myrtle and Tom Riddle

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Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: The first of ten oneshots, based on unrequited love and different pairings. Written for Kore-of-Myth's 100 pairing challenge (although I'm only doing ten pairings!)

Myrtle and Tom Riddle

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Drip drip drip.

Fucking water never stopped falling, did it?

That was all she heard.

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Drip drip drip.

Sob sob sob.

It seemed to fall harder each day, it fell harder, pooling on the floor. She could see her reflection in it. Forever Sixteen. Some people dreamt of being Forever Sixteen.

She could see herself in that puddle of tears. Squat, pimply, thick glasses. Fat, Ugly.

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Drip drip drip.

She saw him in the puddle too. Him, with his thick, dark hair and eyes like molten chocolate. Him, who had never given her a second glance.

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Sob sob sob.

And then she saw those eyes. Those looming, yellow eyes. The last thing she ever saw. She could almost see him, reflected in the corner of them, and it made it bearable.

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Drip drip drip.

Sob sob sob.

She had tried to screech out a final 'I love you!'

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Sob sob sob.

But she gets the feeling he wouldn't have cared anyway.

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Drip drip drip.

All little girls dream of falling in love, she knows that better than anyone. She wishes she hadn't fallen in love. Where's the fun, when he doesn't love you back? Love was meant to be golden, and sparkling.

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Drip drip drip.

Sob sob sob.

And Myrtle learnt the hard way, that all that glitters is not gold.

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Sob sob sob.

Fucking water never stopped falling. Neither did Myrtle.

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Drip drip drip.


	2. Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort

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Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I love this, although I don't think it's quite as successful as Myrtle. This will be the last update until I come back from my holiday! Enjoy, and please review!

Bellatrix and Lord Voldemort

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'Avada Kedavra!'

He shouts at some arrogant little mudblood. A part of her heart falls in love with him a little more.

And all she can do is imagine how much power he truly as, and how much more she could have if she was with him.

The lust for power slowly replaces her soul.

Sometimes, all of her thoughts are replaced with the desire. She breathes in and out, the power taking over even more.

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In, Out.

Avada, Kedavra.

In, Out.

Avada, Kedavra.

In, Out.

She sat in her cell in Azkaban. Not caring to keep her remaining sanity. She gave up her sanity to him years ago.

The Dark Lord (_Her Dark Lord_) has everything she needs. He can restore her family honour. He gives her the power. Everything she has ever done, she does to reach the top.

Her pathetic family. Her fucking annoying friends. The power and desire that was _always_ beyond her reach.

And she thinks that as soon as he notices her, as soon as he recognizes her love and admiration, he will bestow on her everything she deserves. She glitters, but he doesn't recognize it as anything other than devotion. Sometimes she thinks the catches a ghost of admiration in his glare when he looks at her achievements.

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'Avada Kedavra!'

He shouts again at some stupid quivering woman.

Her heart beats a little faster, but she covers it with cackles as her Dark Lord's power increases, fuelling her desire.


	3. Theodore Nott and Hermione Granger

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Here is another pairing I've never written, so this is a first for me! I wrote the bit that he imagines first, because that was so vivid to me. I hope you like it! This really is the last update on this before I go on holiday!_

Theodore Nott and Hermione Granger

He watches her from across the crowded room. She doesn't notice him. No one ever notices him. All the better for him.

He isn't handsome, and he isn't stupid. It's the 'Nott' at the end of his name that gives him power. _That's_ what makes him attractive.

And yet, she never see's it.

He's not a violent person, but that's what she's driving him towards.

He can just picture it now.

His hand will be around her throat, and he'll whisper, 'You will love me.'

Somewhere deep in his mind, he knows he wont do it. She wouldn't let him get that close. And he almost wants to cry. But he doesn't cry. Because he's a Slytherin, he's strong and he can not cry.

He mumbled something incoherent to her in one of their potions lessons once. She thought he was being rude and took offence. Something inside him flickered and died a little that day, when he realised she thought so little of him.

When that something flickered and died, something else dropped into place. His anger, and now, he thinks that maybe it was that spark of anger that pushed him over the edge, pushed him towards darkness.

Now he sits and mindlessly caresses the mark burnt into his arm.

He knows she will be hunted down. She is a muggleborn and a friend of Potter. He ought to care, he loves her, doesn't he?

But he doesn't know anymore, whether it's love or obsession. The part of him that loved died long ago.

And if he can't have her, no one can.


	4. Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Read this pairing a few times but never written it, so it's another first! Wrote this on holiday, the rest of the chapters should be up later today or tomorrow :)_

Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley

'Look Weaslette got another new boyfriend!'

Nott points out to me, laughing. He'd never have noticed if he hadn't been looking for Granger again. I wonder if he'll ever realise I know. Stupid bastard probably forgot he was too thick to deceive me.

I have to consider my reply carefully. My reputation hangs on it. I plaster a famous Malfoy smirk onto my face while I think. I only have a few seconds before they'll realise something is up. Luckily with them, I have a few seconds longer than with normal people.

I look up at her again. Straggly ginger hair, too-big brown eyes, ridiculously womanly figure. Most definitely nothing good enough for a Malfoy. And yet, everything I fucking want. I can just imagine telling my father I was going to marry her. Maybe he'd say, 'At least she's a pureblood.' Probably not. I'd just loose my fortune, my reputation and, most likely, a successful future. She can't be worth it.

'Who is it this time?' I finally drawl in reply.

'Potter.'

I wonder if when he looked at me he saw something momentarily flicker and lose all bloody meaning. Potter has my glory, a fortune to match mine and now my girl too.

I force out a laugh, now certain of my reply.

'Whore.'


	5. Ariana Dumbledore and Gelert Grindelwald

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I dont really know much about Ariana/Gellert having never done much with this ship, so this probably isn't entirely canon or realistic. Nevertheless, I'm happy with how it turned out._

Ariana Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald

_She smiles sweetly at him and he returns it warmly. He beckons her over. She comes, unable to take the smile from her face._

She sits alone and laughs loudly to herself for reasons they don't understand.

_They sit and whisper sweet nothings to each other, murmuring messages of love._

She sits alone and screams his name. Her brothers cant understand whose name it his name. Her brothers cant understand whose name it is she cries.

_She sits in his lap and they sway gently to the soft music. He holds her like he needs her to survive, like he will never let her go._

She sits alone and rocks back and forth fitfully, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. They can not move her from this position.

_They feed each other wonderful food delicately from long spoons. She savours every mouthful, just like she savours every moment with him._

She refuses the food they try to give her. They try to force her, but she wont eat.

_He makes her feel better. His kisses and soft caresses make everything better. When she is with him, her whole life is worthwhile. Her whole life is perfect._

She sits alone and her sobs and howls run deep into the night. They can not sooth her. They can not fix her. She was a smart child once but she is fast deteriorating.

Because in the fantasy world of her reality, he is all she sees.


	6. Remus Lupin and Lily Evans

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Considering that, really, there isn't one part of my mind that believes in this ship (or at least, there wasn't until I wrote this, now it intrigues me) I found this surprisingly good to write!_

Remus Lupin and Lily Evans

One kiss. That's all he had permitted himself. One kiss to poor out all of his feelings.

She had been asleep, lying by the fire in the common room. Her hair had been falling over the sofa in such a glorious way. He had sniffed the air lightly. Her scent was delicious. He just couldn't help himself.

He pressed his lips against hers gently, to avoid waking her. She had responded, even in her sleep. She was so soft, her lips like a drug.

She didn't wake up. He watched her for a few seconds afterwards. The content smile on her peacefully sleeping face seemed to mock the sad, wanting on his.

Years later, she speaks of the kiss. She says she barely remembers it, only that it was lovely. She thinks it was James. James never puts her right. He hears her talk of it and it is like someone is twisting a knife somewhere deep inside of him, laughing all the while.

No matter how overwhelming his pain is, she is happy and that thought sooths him.

Remus just smiles along with the others. As long as she is happy, he'll never tell her the truth either.


	7. Romilda Vane and Harry Potter

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Poor Romilda, Disney has tricked us all into believing in a fairytale world at one time or another._

Romilda Vane and Harry Potter

Cinderella went to the ball anyway, even when she was not supposed to go to win the heart of her Prince.

Sleeping Beauty went out and met him anyway even when she was not supposed to. She slept a hundred years for her Prince.

Belle's Prince was a hideous beast, but she returned to him anyway. She faced death to save her love.

Jasmine defied tradition and expectations to go to find the man she loved.

Ariel left everything she had ever known, signed away her soul and life. She did it for her Prince.

And Romilda Vane? She had fought for her Prince but it hadn't been enough.

She had always been taught to fight for what she believed, and she believed beyond all reason that if a person fought hard enough, life would be kind to them.

Life, it had turned out, was a bitch.

It had started to go downhill when she was eleven, and first discovered she was a witch. She had learned that he was the Prince of her world, and she had decided, even before meeting him, that one day he would be her Prince, and she must fight for him.

Yes, she had always been taught to fight for what she wanted, like her Princesses.

And, up until the age of around sixteen, she hadn't doubted it. Not one little bit.

And then it was as someone had ripped off those rose tinted glasses. She had been fighting a fruitless, pointless battle. Her Prince already had a Princess. Had always had his Princess. A Princess far more worthy and beautiful than she.

Now she sits alone, singing the sad song of her very own witches fairytale.


	8. Severus Snape and Lily Evans

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I wrote a truly ridiculous version of this which makes me giggle, which wont be posted! Take this how you will..._

Severus Snape and Lily Evans

'Come.' The raven haired beauty calls to him. 'Tonight, I am your reward.'

The woman is cruel and admired, even by their Lord. He must have done exceedingly well to have received a night with her as his reward.

She saunters over to him. Her warm breath hits his cheek and her fingertips caress the bare skin of his neck.

A red haired ghost of his past dances into his mind again. Whenever he manages to escape her, she returns to his mind, her face even more beautiful, her figure more perfect and her persona more wonderful than ever before.

He tries to pretend the sensations are coming for her instead. He cant. He knows he must stop this woman.

'Stop.' He calls throatily to the woman. She rises. 'Thank the Dark Lord, but tell him I find myself unworthy as of yet of his praise.' She nods and leaves.

He knew he must stop her.

People would call him crazy. Among the upper classes, with the highest expectations, she is a beauty. High elegantly formed cheekbones, well defined red lips, sultry black eyes. She is plain to him. She is not his beauty. The only beauty he sees is the beauty of his red headed ghost.

She perches in his heart and in his mind. He can not escape her.

He knew he could never have allowed the woman to do what she came for. It would not have been her name he cried. No one must ever hear the name that rises and spills from his lips.

Because there is only ever one name: Lily.


	9. Charlie Weasley and Dora Tonks

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: What wierd is, I thought there wasn't any part of me which believed in this ship, but then, this is the longest chapter of this I've written. Clearly on some level I'm just one big Charlie/Tonks-er! _

'Full moon tonight Charlie, you have to make a wish!'

Charlie turned his head very slightly to look at her. 'What?'

'Every full moon I look at it and make a wish, and it always comes true no matter how difficult or stupid it seems.' She smiled. Her eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes fanned towards her cheeks as she faced the moon.

'There.' She said, turning back towards him, 'Done. Now you make a wish.'

Charlie didn't really believe in wishes like this. He believed in the wishes you made happen yourself. But for her? He'd give it a try. 'What do I wish for Dora?'

'Whatever you like, the moon can make everything come true.' She said honestly, 'but don't tell anyone what you wished for or it wont work.'

Charlie turned towards the moon like she had done. He didn't shut his eyes. It was a round and clear and free. He thought a second of the pain this beautiful object was causing people at this moment. He wondered why she loved it so. The more he looked it, the more he thought of her.

He shut his eyes and made his wish.

When he turned back, Dora was smiling at him. 'I didn't think you'd do it.'

'Why not?'

'Because you don't believe in it.'

'Yes, but you do.'

She sat a little close to him. 'You're a good friend Charlie, the very best.'

He smiled at her. The word 'friend' cut him deeper than he had thought possible. 'Why do you wish on it?' He asked, ignoring his pain for her pleasure.

She shrugged. 'I don't know. It's consistent, I suppose. Nothing in my life is consistent, not even my appearance, like yours is. At least you can be sure that when you wake up in the morning you'll look the same as you did the night before. I can't be sure of that, but the moon is always full once a month. It's predictable and consistent and comforting. It seems like it's the only thing I know that is.'

'I am.' He said, putting his arm around her in a friendly gesture.

'Yes, you are.' She hugged him.

'Thank you Charlie. I mean it you know, you really are my very best friend.'

He hugged her back. 'You're mine too, always will be.' He promised.

Years later, Charlie is sitting at her wedding. His moon wish didn't come true. It is not him at the alter. He loves her. He wishes he could be angry or upset, but he isn't. In his heart, he just hopes her moon wish came true.


	10. Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: This makes me laugh because of the irony that possibly no one will pick up but me. Sort of a cheap shot at spoilt footballers who complain about their lifes. Anywho D (unrequited love) is done. TABLE D IS FINI! _

_A/N2: This is being extended! I've given myself until September Third to write ninety more chapters. Not all depressing like these either! So look forward to that :D_

Viktor Krum and Hermione Granger

He knows teenage girls sit and gaze at his picture shamelessly.

He knows middle aged women take a few seconds out from their routines to look at his rugged good looks.

He knows boys have grown up looking at his picture, hoping to be like him when they're older.

He knows Quidditch fans of all ages and genders (and even species sometimes) admire and appreciate his flawless flying skills.

He also knows that the one person he wishes would look at his picture with love doesn't own his poster.

People look at him. They buy and sell his merchandise. They talk about him in magazines. They _admire_ him.

Hermione Granger never admired him. He almost admires her just for that, just for not being like everyone else. She'd rather be with Ronald Weasley than with him. If it makes her happy, he first thought, she'll get over it.

Still, it doesn't seem fair. _He's_ the star. _He's _the famous one. _He's_ got more money than him. Even if he doesn't smile, he's still more attractive than him! But does she want him, Viktor Krum? No she doesn't.

In fifty years they might ask him if he ever fell in love. He will nod his of course, and pull his beautiful, blonde, young wife closer to him.

He will be lying.

Yes. Viktor Krum lives the sad, lonely life of the international Quidditch Superstar.


	11. Bellatrix Black and Rodulphus Lestrange

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I was trying to write something happy for a different pairing, but I was having some trouble. So, naturally, I worked on my Bellatrix piece! This my next ten chapters will be table A: Canon pairings._

Bellatrix Black and Rodulphus Lestrange

Bellatrix paints rouge onto her full lips. She draws black around her dark eyes. She curls her hair so it sits deliciously. Her deep violet dress closely skims her figure, making the best of everything she has. It is cut elegantly, a little lower and a little shorter than her usual preference.

Tonight, she must be perfect. Tonight, she must thrill.

Rodulphus Lestrange has the power to elevate her status and high regard. He has the power to quench her thirst for supremacy and satisfy her blood lust.

And all she has to do to achieve this next step of importance? She has to marry him. Trick the fool into falling in love with her. Her family were disgraced by Andromeda. She cant do it on her own. Not even Narcissa's marriage to a Malfoy redeemed them enough. Bellatrix knows she has to do everything for her self. Rodulphus Lestrange will restore her grandeur and her name.

The mark burnt into her arm aches a dull, painful ache, but it will be proudly on show for him to see. The mark was only the first, important step in her treacherous climb to the top. She knows it will impress him.

For a single second the foolish idea of returning his love passes through her mind. She finds the idea laughable. She is Bellatrix Lestrange. She does not love.


	12. Molly and Arthur Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: So yes, it would appear I can not write any relatively happy romance without reverting to pure cheese. Sadly, here is my Molly/Arthur, not as happy as I had intended. Next one will be nicer I swear!!_

Molly and Arthur Weasley

The baby cries.

Molly rocks him back and forth, trying to sooth him. Her baby's cries seem to cut through her like a knife. She strokes his cheek ever so gently, and runs her finger across his small mass of red hair. Just like his father's hair, she thought fondly but worriedly.

The baby wont stop crying.

'Please William, please.' Molly whispers, holding him close, 'Mummy needs you to shush now.'

She can not stop him crying.

It is almost as if he knows, she thought. A tear rolls down her own cheek. Arthur has been called away by the Ministry to a raid. His job is not usually dangerous, but they are in the middle of a war. Anything could happen to him. Another tear rolls down her cheek. She knows she will not be able to rest until he returns to her and baby William, worn out but safe.

She can not sooth the baby until she can sooth herself.

She can not sooth herself without Arthur.


	13. Lily Evans and James Potter

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: If this is overly cheesy, I swear I'm going to suffocate myself with a marshmallow. It took me two days to write this, my first chapter that isn't angst! I hope you like it :) _

Lily Evans and James Potter

Sixteen year old Lily Evans sat in the Gryffindor Quidditch stands. The wind whipped through her hair, but the warm sun broke through the clouds. She looked about the pitch fondly for a moment. She had some great memories from here.

People always expected her not to like Quidditch, or to be fiercely loyal to her house like other people were, but she was. She remembered last year when Gryffindor won the cup. She had been ecstatic. The shouts and cheers from the crowd still rang in her ears if she thought hard enough. The team had been over the moon too. They'd deserved to win, they'd put in so much effort for months prior to the match. And Potter had looked surprisingly good, speeding around on his broom, glasses askew and face screwed up in concentration.

Lily shook her head, her thought's straying too far for her liking.

She opened her book, and flicked to the right page. Slowly, a smile spread across her face.

A note from James sat in the place of her usual bookmark, the Albus Dumbledore chocolate frog card. The note was in his familiar handwriting, and read: _Just thought I'd leave you a note to say_ _I love you! Eagerly awaiting your love in return, James. P.s. Enjoy your book!_

She shook her head, the smile still on her face. She wasn't sure how he'd done it, but she was surprised to find she didn't mind. Maybe there was hope for that boy yet.


	14. Alice and Frank Longbottom

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Sorry, another sad one. This didn't turn out how I wanted, but I kind of like it. I wish it was happier. Nevermind. _

Alice and Frank Longbottom

Frank has his arm wrapped tightly around Alice's shoulders. Her arm is wrapped around his waist. She looking up at him and her smile looks like it will split her face. Her other hand is resting lightly on the slight swell of her pregnant stomach. Frank's hand is moving between her stomach and his side.

He might look a little awkward to outsiders, his face is crimson he is blushing so much, but he is over the moon. The smile on his face mirrors the one on hers.

This is Augusta's favourite picture of them. The colours are slightly faded, the edges have curled and the image is bent from the amount of times she has gripped it, as if it were life support. Tears marks are scattered across it, reminding her of her own grief. But she loves it. It was the happiest her son and his wife had ever been.

She showed it to them once, in the hospital. Frank didn't even seem to see the picture. Alice tilted her head and seemed to look briefly at it.

Neither of them remember Augusta, or the memory, or the photograph.

But at least they are still together.


	15. Hermione and Ron Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Oh jeez, awful and cheesy and stupid, but here is what happens when I try to write fluff:_

Hermione and Ron Weasley

'Hermione,' Ron called to her from the kitchen, where he was stirring dinner, 'I think I have a name for the baby!'

With some struggling, she raised herself from her arm chair. The action was easier said than done, Hermione being heavily pregnant at the time. She was due in under two months, and they were no way closer to finding a name. Rose had been easy to name, they had both surprised each other by agreeing immediately. This time, however, they knew they were having a boy, and the arguments had been running on for weeks.

Hermione waddled into the kitchen and sighed, her hands on her hips. 'What is it this time? Another Hugo?' She said crossly, mulling it over in her mind, contradicting herself. 'Actually, I quite liked Hugo.'

'Really?!' Ron exclaimed, pulling his spoon out of the sauce. 'I liked it too! So are we going with Hugo?'

'Yes! And don't flick pasta at me.'

Ron blushed that shade of red Hermione found so delicious. 'What name were you going to suggest?'

'Oh, well, it's a bit ridiculous,' he said, blushing a shade darker, 'I was going to say Rubeus, you know, after-'

'Hagrid?!' Hermione smiled, throwing her arms around him as best as he could, 'Oh Ron! It's perfect! Hugo Rubeus Weasley!'

Hermione smiled at her husband. Sometimes he did know just what to say to make her happy.


	16. Ginny and Harry Potter

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: It took me three days to write my Ginny/Harry. Three days and this is the best I come up with. Inspired by my dad, who uses shidilliedoodle to avoid swearing in front of my sister :D It's pronounced Shid-dillie-doodle, just so you know!_

Ginny and Harry Potter

'Oh shidilliedoodle!' Harry exclaimed as he stubbed his toe on the door.

Ron and George burst into peals of laughter.

'Shidillie what!?' George choked out as he gasped for breath. Ron was bent over double, his face the colour of an overly ripe tomato.

Harry's face coloured as he blushed. 'James is learning to talk! Ginny doesn't want him picking anything up from either of us!' He tried to explain his odd choice of speech.

'Mate,' Ron said moments later, after they had both calmed down, 'Our sister has you whipped!'

'Shut up Ronald Weasley!' Hermione called from elsewhere in the house.

'How does she bloody do that?!' Ron said to himself, before calling back to her. 'Sorry dear!'

Harry blushed again. 'I don't mind.' He muttered, thinking of Ginny.


	17. Bill and Fleur Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: My Bill and Fleur, just a little rambly piece, in which I tried to be romantic and fluffy._

Bill and Fleur Weasley

Bill looked across at the exquisite creature sat beside him. She was his wife!

He had been mauled and scarred, but she still wanted to be with him. She could have had anyone, with her Veela charm. But she chose him. Him, Bill Weasley, tall and gangly, flaming red hair and family larger than most. He was so ordinary. And Fleur?

Fleur was perfect. Shimmering blonde hair, eyes like oceans and skin so porcelain and flawless. Her figure, too, was perfectly formed. Long legs and graceful arms, and curves in the most wonderful ways. People used to stop and stare at her in the street. It didn't bother him anymore. She loved him and only him.

She was beautiful to Bill. Not for how she looked, her Veela looks did not make her beautiful. She was curious and determined, qualities he found rather endearing. She was kind and caring and charming. That is what Bill found beautiful about her.

'Beel?' Fleur said, 'What eez eet?'

It was at this moment Bill realised he had been staring at her. 'Nothing love,' he smiled, 'I just love you, that's all.'


	18. Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I'm not just coming up with these off the top of my head, I wrote them when my laptop was down. I'm no longer doing them in any order either - just as I'm inspired! Oh, and if your reading or just lurking, PLEASE review :)_

Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy

'Rosie, play chess with me.' Scorpius called his girlfriend, Rose Weasley.

'Scorpius, I'm working, and I'm in no mood to play chess at the moment.' She looked up from her potions essay, 'and I told you, dont call me Rosie!'

'Please!' He pouted at her.

She sighed, unable to resist taking a break. 'Fine!'

'Don't think I'll go easy on you Rose, just because you're my girlfriend. I've never been beaten.' He said proudly, puffing out his chest.

'Don't you worry, I wouldn't want you to be nice!' She grinned, teasing him, 'might be a bit hard for you anyway, Malfoy, being nice.'

'Oh,' he said, pretending to offended, 'if that's how you want to play this game, bring it on!'

Half an hour later, Rose proudly pronounced 'checkmate!'

Scorpius sat with his head in his hands, looking befuddled. 'How did you -'

'You stupid prat,' she giggled, 'have you never met my dad? Of course I know how to play chess!'

He looked even more dumbstruck. She leaned over the table to kiss his cheek. 'It's okay though,' she whispered for only him to hear, 'because I love you anyway.'

'Weasley!' Scorpius called, chasing after her. 'I demand a rematch!'


	19. Alice Longbottom and Lily Potter

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: A very very short, diluted Lily/Alice, but I like the idea._

Alice Longbottom and Lily Potter

Frank always brought Alice roses. Beautiful, long stemmed red roses. The scent was always delicious, rising from the petals and dancing around the room.

Alice always thanked Frank graciously. He was so good and kind to her, buying her wonderful flowers. She wished he would stop. It wasn't Frank's fault. He didn't know she didn't like roses.

They were sharp, and covered in thorns. They were dangerous. The red of the petals seemed to attack her vision. Alice prefered her flowers sweet and colourful, with petals that shone. Those were the flowers that made Alice happy.

For years, all Alice had yearned for was a soft, graceful Lily.


	20. Ted Tonks and Andromeda Black

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: My take on Andromeda and Ted's first meeting. Can be any age or location, it's up to you! Please review, just a word or two is awesome!_

Ted Tonks and Andromeda Black

'Excuse me,' she said politely, tapping the shoulder of the tall boy standing next to her, 'but your standing on my robes.'

'Oh!' He exclaimed, jumping from the edge of her robes, 'I'm dreadfully sorry. I'm Ted Tonks by the way.'

The boy was kind looking, with mousy hair and bright eyes. Her family wouldn't have thought he was handsome at all, but she saw something in him when he looked at her. Her family would have thought that someone of her considerable fortune and status, and with her admirable, intense beauty shouldn't even be talking to someone like him. She smiled. 'Andromeda Black, friends call me Andi, family call me Stupid Traitor.'

Ted looked mildly aghast. 'Sorry, you didn't deserve that.' She shook her head sadly, looking down, 'It's been a hard day.'

He held his hands up in mock surrender. 'Don't worry, I understand. Want to talk about it?'

Andromeda just smiled, taking his offered hand. She ignored the looks she was getting from her sister, standing across the room.

'Thank you Ted.' She smiled later that evening, before kissing his cheek and sauntering away from him.

Ted touched his cheek where she had kissed. The blissful look was sat on his face for weeks.


	21. George and Angelina Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Heehee this one made me smile. And: AH! I wrote a proper kiss. Not good, I'm now having a fluff overload :D_

Angelina and George Weasley

'Roxy? Do you want to help me make a cake for Fred's birthday?' Angelina called from the kitchen.

Roxy was the thirteen year old daughter of George and Angelina Weasley. She was, like her father, not renowned for her cooking.

'I don't know Mum, I think I'd just hold you back.' She replied, her head stuck in Quidditch Through The Ages. She, like Fred, her older-by-a-year brother, had inherited her love of Quidditch from both of her parents, choosing to spend her free summer evenings with any available family members, flying until they got bored with her.

'Rox, do you want to lick the bowl?' Her mum called again.

'Oh oh, yes please!' Roxy said, bounding into the room.

Before she could get there, her father pushed past her to the nearly empty bowl. 'Cake mixture!' He exclaimed, grabbing the bowl.

'George Weasley!' Angelina shouted at him before he could eat any. He looked sheepish, and handed the bowl to his daughter. Angelina smiled at him.

'Thank you darling. Besides, I have something far sweeter for you.' She smirked, putting her arms around his neck, kissing him hungrily.

George smiled against her lips. Maybe he could let Roxy keep the bowl, just this once.


	22. Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Never tried this pairing before, but this plot bunny hit me, so I thought I'd best give it a go! Actually, I've never even tried slash before, so this is entirely new. Please review and tell me what you think!_

Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy

'Albus,' Scorpius stopped suddenly, pulling his hand from Albus's. 'Albus, I cant do it.'

'What in the name of Merlin? Why not?' Albus demanded, 'It's just my family, you've met them before!'

'Yes, but not like this!' He gestured between the two of them. Albus nodded reluctantly. Scorpius had a valid point. He had met the vast Potter-Weasley connection before, but never as Albus's partner, just as a friend. He knew for a fact that his family didn't care a bean that he was dating Scorpius instead of a woman. They cared more about how his boyfriend treated him.

He put his hand on Scorpius's shoulder and squeezed soothingly. 'Scorpius, don't worry, please. They already love you nearly about as much as I do.'

'But your family, they're great people!' He exclaimed.

'Yes but -'

'They did great things, in the war, and my family -'

'Scorp, stop.' Albus cut him off, shaking his head. 'My family are great, but so are you.'

'No.' He shook his head sadly, looking down.'

'Would you throw yourself in front of in Avada for me?' Albus asked bluntly.

'In a heartbeat.' He whispered in reply.

'Then you are a great man, Scorpius Malfoy.' Albus smiled, lifting his face to look at him. 'You are the greatest man for me.' He kissed him lightly on the lips, taking his hand again.

'Come on, Scorp, I believe in you.'


	23. Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Wow, my first venture into the incredible world of slash-angst!_

Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas

_-Dean, _

_Wedding was beautiful, wasn't it?_

_Lavender looked wonderful, glowing. And the pictures you did for us were wonderful._

_I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sure you don't want to hear from me. I wouldn't blame you. I couldn't even bring myself to say this to you face to face. I'm just a bloody Irish coward._

_Don't shake your head, we both know it's true. I couldn't even bring myself to leave a woman I love for the man who I need, who completes my soul. You'd have taken me back in a heartbeat._

_Merlin, now I sound like a giant idiot. But I cant think of the best way to tell you how much I love you. Even now, even after I got married._

_You have to understand Dean, I still need you to be my friend. I needed you before and I need you now. But I had to do what as right. We could never have worked._

_Could we? Please Dean. Please, tell me I did the right thing. _

_You always made sure I did the right thing. In school, you made me do the best I could and you made me smile when the war got the better of me. You made me love you. I wish I could hate you for it. I wish ... I wish so many things. I wish we could be together. I wish I could be a bigger man._

_I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

_I love you._

_-Seamus_


	24. Charlie Weasley and Luna Lovegood

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I'm not getting many reviews for this, but I'm enjoying it so much I can't stop posting chapters. This one makes me smile, so I hope you like it._

Charlie Weasley and Luna Lovegood

Fred's funeral had been a sad affair. The overcast sky had been filled with fireworks, set off by Percy and George. They lightened the atmosphere for all but one person.

Charlie Weasley had rushed off the minute the fireworks stopped. There was no closure for him in the burial of his brother. Perhaps if he had been there on time, they wouldn't be burying Fred. He could have stopped it, prevented it. He wasn't sure how, but he knew he could have done something.

He heard a soft rustling in the grass behind him. 'Hello Charlie.' A dreamy voice called to him.

'Hello Luna.' Charlie greeted her, without even turning around. He had met Luna Lovegood several times before, in the weeks leading up to the funerals. He found her eccentric calmness endearing. He understood what Luna spoke of when she spoke of the magical creatures, He worked with dragons, he knew the odd ways of the magical creatures. He knew there was much more to be discovered.

'It isn't your fault, Charlie.'

'Yes it is.' He said bitterly. 'Maybe if I'd been there, Fred wouldn't be gone.'

'Your brother isn't truly gone, you know.' She said dreamily, 'He'll always be watching over you.'

Charlie smiled. Luna always seemed to know the right thing to say. Her words sent a wave a ease through him. 'I hope Fred is looking away right now then…'

And, with that, he kissed her, knowing his brother was somewhere far away, cheering at the sight.


	25. Eloise Midgen and Colin Creevy

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I dont like the end so much, but I cried when I wrote this. Why oh why did Colin have to die?!_

Eloise Midgen and Colin Creevy

Colin had looked tiny in death, his blonde hair lay oddly dank and flat. His face was sad, and not at peace. In life, his face had always been happy. Eloise couldn't remember a time when he wasn't smiling. His wand was in his right hand, his camera still clutched in his left hand.

She hadn't cried when she saw him. She had rushed over to Dennis, hugging his small, sobbing body to hers.

His funeral was the worst day of her life. Her and Dennis had clung to each other, like a brother and sister, his parents sat on his other side. They had been dressed all in black, a muggle vicar droning boringly on about Colin, making a mockery of his bright young life.

She hadn't cried then, either. She felt like a piece of her was missing. A dull ache deep in her heart that refused to go away. Maybe it was that something inside her that refused to let her spill any tears.

On her first day back at Hogwarts, first years were rushing around excitedly, most were ignorant of the actions that had taken place in the school mere months ago. One small first year was taking pictures of everything and anything. His camera had ended up in her direction, taking an unwanted picture of her entering the newly rebuilt great hall.

As the camera flashed, the final thread of her strength deserted her. Her legs seemed to fall from beneath her and she collapsed to the ground with a howl, all the pain she had hidden for the last five months split in salty, sad rivers across her face.


	26. Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Okay, so I know I'm making Seamus out to be a bit of a bastard in these. I'm just trying to make him into a more real person. Next one he will be the most lovely bloke, I promise!_

Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown

'I wont leave you because of your scars.' He had promised her, 'besides, you can hardly notice them.'

He had tried to be tender with her, a job easier said than done. He wasn't lying either, mostly. He wasn't going to leave her. She was a great girl, kind, funny, pretty, with the extra sparkle he so rarely saw in other people.

But he did lie. The scars leered at him when he looked at her. Sometimes he forgot about them, they become nothing more to him than unwanted acquaintances.

Sometimes though, he saw people looking at them in the street. Seeing the ugly pink lines, wondering, questioning.

When they make love, he can't look at her. Sometimes he just stares into her eyes, not looking. Sometimes he has to shut his eyes.

He loves her, but he's only human. Right?


	27. Severus Snape and Harry Potter

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Creepy Sev spying on eleven-year-old Harry. Not sure how I feel about things like this, but it's fun as hell to write!_

Severus Snape and Harry Potter

He looked up into the small patch of night sky visible from the kitchen. The Dursley's would kill him if they knew he was in there when they were all in bed. And anyway, even if they caught him, he'd just do some pretend magic and scare them off again.

He peered through the blinds. There was a bat out there, hanging, it's tiny eyes open.

It was staring at him, of that he was certain. It was a big bat, black and somehow shining. It had spread out it's wings a moment ago, and Harry had never seen anything like it.

Harry, feeling foolish, waved at the bat. It opened out it's wings and flew away.

As the bat finally landed, miles away, it grew rapidly. In the spot where it should have landed stood a tall black man in a long black cloak. There was an angry look on his face.

_How bloody ironic,_ he thought_, it must have be the eyes._

This time, however, he would not fail. He would not loose him.


	28. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: How anyone writes serious Sirius/Remus I'll never know, it's just a ship that yells: 'Do something funny with me!' Which is what I tried to do! Inspired by something my sister said to me, after which I laughed for hours._

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin

Sirius raced around the nearly empty dormitory, strumming the air like a guitar. He was singing a Weird Sisters song loudly and out of key. He jumped on Peter's neatly made bed, now bashing on some invisible drums.

'Wow Sirius.' Remus Lupin said, not looking up from his book. He had been sitting on his bed, ignoring Sirius. Or at least, trying to ignore him. Ignoring Sirius Black was easier said than done. 'Where'd you buy it?'

'Buy what, my lovely Remus?' He said, jumping from the bed.

'The butchering knife.' He replied, looking up, his amber eyes innocent. Sirius looked very confused. He cocked his head to the left in a way which made Remus's heart jump.

'What are you talking about?'

'Well, I didn't think you could possibly be butchering the song that badly all on your own.'

Sirius looked hurt, then burst into peels of laughter. 'You see,' he managed to choke out between fits of laughter, 'this is why I love you.'

Remus just smirked.


	29. Angelina Johnson and Fred Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Fred/Angie is always fun :D Inspired by a chair. A fantastic starting point I know._

Angelina Johnson and Fred Weasley

'Out of my chair, Weasley.' Angelina jerked her thumb at Fred, gesturing him to move.

'Nah, I'm pretty happy here thanks Johnson.' Fred grinned in reply. Teasing his almost-girlfriend was a favourite past time of his. They'd been flitting around each other for weeks in a way that Fred wasn't really used to.

'I was gone for five minutes!' She glared at him. Seeing he was not going to move, she went on a different route. 'Fine.'

She threw herself down on him heavily, arms crossed over her chest. She pushed all thoughts of him being nicely comfortable out of her mind.

'Not a problem for me, Angie!' He locked his arms tightly around her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. He traced light circles down her side, trying to make her laugh.

Biting her tongue to stop her from giggling, she turned her head to tell him off for calling her 'Angie.' As she had anticipated, but not quite had the will power to stop, he kissed her.

Laughing against her lips, he murmured, 'You know, I always did like this chair.'


	30. Argus Filch and Arabella Figg

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I deleted the Lorcan/Dominique that was up, I'm going to rewrite it better later. So here is my Argus/Arabella, which I surprised myself by actually quite liking! _

Argus Filch and Arabella Figg

His heavy boots clunked on the hard stone floors of the dungeons. It was lonely, so lonely. Black shadows lurked around every corner, dark and empty. He almost wished there was something, or someone there. Something was always better than nothing. He had learned that the hard way.

Where was his cat?

Actually, no. He wasn't in any mood to see that creature. _She_ had given him the cat. He'd named it after his next door neighbour, Mrs Norris, but always reminded him of her.

'Not all magic comes from the end of a wand,' she'd screamed at him. 'Don't you feel ANYTHING?'

She had thought she was in love with him. He liked her, admired her. She was like him, but she didn't mind. Then she'd given him the cat. Something to try to make him feel some love.

And he did love the cat. Not how he had loved her. He had loved her, he knew that now but it was too late. She was long gone from his life.

But the cat, the cat was always there. The cat represented everything he should have had.


	31. Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Sorry for not updating quicker, I was writing creepy, dark and oddly sexual things for other challenges so this one got pushed back a little. Plus I've been playing MarioKart pretty much none stop for days! I'm not much for endings so far as drabbles go, so I'm working on that! Anyway, here is a Neville/Luna, which is a little nicer! _

Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood

Neville scanned the marquee for Luna. She wasn't hard to spot, in her silky yellow dress robes, decorated with blue flowers. He smiled as he wandered over to her. She looked so completely unique. So completely Luna.

She was humming softly to herself as she watched the dance floor. He pulled out the seat beside her, and sat down. 'Hello Neville.' She smiled, not looking at him. 'Wedding was lovely wasn't it? I can't wait for Ginny and Harry's.'

Neville nodded. The wedding had been lovely. He was glad Ron and Hermione had finally realised what everyone else had known for years. He changed the subject. 'Don't you want to get married?'

'Oh yes!' She said enthusiastically, turning her head to look at him. 'I'd like that very much one day!'

'We could get married.' Neville blushed.

She smiled again, putting her hand on his affectionately. 'No we couldn't Neville. You have to be in love you get married, and we aren't love are we?' She got up. 'Do you want a drink? The Nargles have finally moved away.'

He shook his head and watched her walk away from him. He smiled sadly. She had been wrong. He was in love with her.


	32. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I hope this isn't too out of character for the two of them, but I just liked it! Sorry for not updating sooner! Please review, even if just to tell me to write a better one next time!!_

Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks

She stood before him, her appearance entirely changed from how she is naturally, like the last time he had seen her.

Now, her lips were bee-stung and soft, painted a bright pink. Her eyes usually bright and violet, were deep and dark, surrounded by black and grey eye shadow. Her usually lightly tanned, gently freckled skin was porcelain pale and flawless.

Her hair hung in thick, shiny chesnut curls down her back. It was a long way from her favoured pink spikes.

She was taller, with longer legs and bigger breasts. Her dress was elegant, and she held herself differently, more gracefully.

She was different. She looked different. A different person. To impress him. To make him fall in love with her.

When Remus saw her, he uttered six words. 'Darling, I loved you more before.'


	33. Neville Longbottom and Lavender Brown

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Another short one, but I'm really rather fond of it!_

Neville Longbottom and Lavender Brown

I used to walk along the street on my own, thinking how bad my life was. I used to look into the sky and see a muggle aeroplane and think how lucky the people on it were. They got to go away from the monotony of their lives. They didn't have to try to impress anyone or be something they weren't.

And now, I see those big metal cages and wonder what I was ever thinking. I wouldn't ever want to leave what I have now. I am home just where I am, all thanks to one person.

Neville Longbottom.

I'd never have seen it coming. But it came and hit me hard and I fell.

Now, I can't help but pity those people on the aeroplanes, trying to find home. I've found home, and it's the most wonderful experience of my life.


	34. Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I wasn't going to do a Dramione, because I thought it would be to much like my Draco/Ginny. I especially wasn't going to write a requited Dramione, so I really do have no idea where this came from!_

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger

He looked around the room. As always, it had done exactly as he had asked. _I need to see Hermione. I need to see Hermione. I need to see Hermione._

A door had appeared and he had slipped through. She was beaming, just like she always did when he came.

He didn't know how it had happened, how his lips had collided with hers, how she had become his whole world. He hated her, she was a Mudblood.

But the line between love and hate was too thin and they had pole-vaulted into passion. They couldn't do it. The stupid Gryffindor was trying anyway, and he was about to do the least Slytherin thing he had ever done.

He kissed her with everything he had. It was forceful and ruthless, but full of more feeling than ever before. He always left her breathless.

'I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore.' He murmured, turning to leave. He had to stop it, for her sake. He'd never tell her that, lower himself to admit to loving her.

He was half out of the door before she called him back. 'Draco!' She said in a way so unlike her. 'I felt sparks…'

He went cold all over. She loved him. He didn't look back as he shut the door. He didn't want to see the tear stained face of the girl he had somehow fallen in love with too.


	35. George Weasley and Alicia Spinnet

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I was in a nice angsty mood and I'm sorry, but I took it out on Fred and George, and also Alicia sadly!_

George Weasley and Alicia Spinnet

Alicia looked at him. He looked sad and sorry. It was horrible to see him that way. His bright eyes were so forlorn.

'It can't be my birthday, Alicia.' He said, face red from crying. 'I can't get older if Fred can't.'

'George, you have to be strong, your birthday _is_ going happen, you _are_ going to get older.' Alicia said, putting her hand on his arm soothingly. A tear rolled down his cheek.

'No! I can't live more of my life without him! I can't be older then him.'

George had never been the same since Fred died. He might never be the same again. That thought cut Alicia far deeper. Not only had she lost one friend, she had also partially lost another friend too, the one she loved. Only she hadn't lost him. She still had him. And for that she was forever thankful.

'George,' she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. 'If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older.'

He laughed and sobbed into her hair. 'Thank you Alicia.'

'Happy Birthday George.' _Happy Birthday Fred._


	36. Dominique Weasley and Cane Zabini

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Oh jeez, I've been trying to write another chapter for days, and suddenly I sit and write this stupid fluff. Cane Zabini is the OC I chose. Please tell me this isn't TOO ridiculous? _

Dominique Weasley and Cane Zabini

'Look,' he said. 'Look, I can't do this anymore. I can't dance around you and try not to piss you off. I can't pretend to be happy for you whenever you get a new boyfriend, because all I want to do is _cry_. I can't be your friend anymore. I can't be this close to you and not be able to touch you. I can't do _this_ anymore. Because I love you. I bloody love you.'

With that, he stormed towards the door, ignoring the looks of shock from the few people scattered around the common room.

'Don't you dare go anywhere, Cane Zabini, don't you dare!' Dominique stamped her foot and charged towards him, grabbing his shoulder and forcing him to turn around.

His black hair was out of its ponytail and slightly scruffy looking around his face. He looked different from how she had ever seen him. He was wilder, angrier than he usually was.

'Why? Why should I sit and watch you any more? Why should I bother waiting?'

'You shouldn't just watch.' She said, holding his face in her hands. She took one look into his dark eyes and couldn't stand another moment without him. She kissed him, not listening to the wolf whistles of various family members.

'But that's why should wait for me, Zabini.'


	37. Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: This odd, not really thought of this pairing in any depth before, but I always pitied Narcissa and writing this really hasn't made me feel any better!!_

Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy

__

I can't hide my feelings from you any longer, my dear. I love you. Will you marry me?

__

Yes!

I am passionately, intensely in love with you. You must marry me, my love!

I will!

I feel so much love for you that it's threatening to burst my chest. I want nothing more than to spend my life with you.

She would answer, delighted. She would cry, overwhelmed, but thrilled.

She would simply nod, tears of joy rolling down her cheeks.

__

I love you. Will you do me the honour of being my wife?

She would throw herself at him, not caring about appearances.

__

Narcissa, my love, will you marry me?

She would even accept that tearfully.

Because when other little girls were dreaming of their weddings, Narcissa was dreaming of the proposal. Someone stating their love for her, wanting to spend forever with her because he loved her so much.

In the end, she doesn't get a proposal. She gets an arrangement. With a man who doesn't love her, just desires her.

And she hates that she loves him anyway.


	38. Penelope Clearwater and Percy Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: A short one, not especially original; inspired by a rainbow. Because who hasn't wanted to write a cliche rainbow piece at some point?! Anyway, reviews are great!_

Penelope Clearwater and Percy Weasley

Penelope looked out of the window. Shiny beads of rain raced into a newly forming puddle, but the sun somehow shone through the grey clouds.

She remembered a time when she had been studying with Percy in the library, in their favourite spot in a secluded corner at the back. There was a window and a perfect view of the grounds. It had been raining then, too. She had wanted to go out in it, but Percy had refused.

Odd, how such a small amount of time ago they were happy and peaceful at Hogwarts. Such a small amount of time ago he had left his family, and she'd left him. She'd refused to go with him this time. She couldn't follow him, not again.

Penelope looked at the rainbow that was forming in the sky. Seven colours. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet.

But she could only see three in the cloudy sky. Red, the colour of his hair. Blue, the colour of his eyes. And yellow. The colour of his cowardly heart.


	39. Ginny Weasley and Tom Riddle

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Ooh, weird, creepy pairing! My favourite kind! I didn't make this as creepy as I could because I'm trying to take a break from all fanfiction-horror, which is harder said than done for me! Please review and tell me how well it worked!_

Ginny Weasley and Tom Riddle

__

Dear Tom,

She scribbled into the diary. As usual, her words immediately began to disappear.

__

Today was a horrible day. Harry ignored me again. Nobody likes me, Tom.

She waited for his neat, curly script to appear where her words had been only seconds ago.

_My poor Ginny,_ he wrote_, __this Harry fellow must be mad._

She smiled to herself. Tom always knew what to say. Before she had to chance to write again, more words appeared.

_I like you very much._

She sat, surprised. Tom liked her. Tom, who was elegant and charming. Tom liked her. And he understood her. He never treated her like she was stupid or worthless. It felt to Ginny that her existence relied on him, as much as his existence seemed to rely on her.

_Thank you Tom! _She replied, her writing looking messy and childish compared to his. _I lo-_

She blushed furiously and scratched out the word she had begun to write. She hoped it wouldn't reach Tom, where ever he was.

_I like you, too! _She put in its place. She smiled her still childish smile. Her Mum was right. It was nice to fall in love with someone who loved you back.


	40. Hermione Granger and Cormac McLaggen

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: NO CREEPY HORROR!! Anyway, this one is slightly longer, because it is also written for Honda's **First Love **Challenge over at HPFC. Okay, so I know I didn't go into much depth with the pairing, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless :D_

Hermione Granger and Cormac McLaggen

Rose lifted the lid off another box. She coughed as the dust of memories that had settled years before rose again and danced in the air.

This must have been the sixth box she'd rifled through in the past hour. How hard could it be to find those photographs her dad had been talking about?

She looked into the box. There were some photographs, but they didn't seem to have her dad in them at all. Or her Uncle Harry. They had her mum in, looking young and beautiful.

There was a boy in them, too. A good looking boy with brown, wavy hair and stubborn eyes. Who on earth was he? She tried to think of a time when her mum had mentioned someone like this. The only one of Mum's old boyfriends they ever discussed was Viktor Krum, and that was only usually to annoy her dad.

'Rose?' Her mum called up the stairs, 'You've been up there an awfully long time, are you sure everything's okay?'

'Everything's fine!' She replied. 'Can you come and help me?'

A few seconds later, her mum appeared in the attic. Rose glanced back down at the picture. The girl in the picture looked about sixteen, and had looked just like Rose herself. Her mum looked different now, older, her hair streaked with grey and her face lined with both worry and joy. When Rose looked at her mum, she hoped she would be as lucky in her life as she had been.

'What have you got?' Her mum asked, sitting opposite.

She handed her the picture silently.

'Oh.' She replied after a few seconds. I haven't seen this picture in years.'

'Who is he?' Rose asked.

'Cormac McLaggen.' Her mum said, a nostalgic look in her eyes. 'He was my boyfriend briefly at Hogwarts, before your father came to his senses, I suppose.'

'Oh!' Rose exclaimed. She had thought that might have been the case, but it always came as a strange sort of shock for her that her mother had lived a different life before she existed. She asked naively, 'Did you love him?'

'I suppose, in a way.' She replied, smiling fondly at Rose. 'But you don't marry your first love, and I love your father more than I could ever have loved Cormac, Rosie.'

Rose nodded and smiled. 'I am.' She said quietly, looking at another picture, one of her parents at the age of seventeen. 'I'm going to marry my first love.'

She nodded. 'I know you are. I think I can hear your father.' She said, getting up to leave. She dropped herself down the ladder, the floor creaking slightly, leaving her alone.

Rose picked up the picture of her mum and Cormac again. She smiled, thank Merlin her first love was going to work out better than this Cormac McLaggen had for her mum.


	41. Victoire Weasley and Teddy Lupin

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Okay, so I wasn't meant to be writing this pairing, but I got inspiration. So, from now on this story has 101 chapters! I ought to say: This is set before Victoire and Teddy got together, around two years before the epilogue_

Victoire Weasley and Teddy Lupin

Victoire looked around the crowded room for Teddy. He was probably away somewhere with Fred and James. Or maybe he was sitting with the adults.

"Hey Vic."

He was behind her. At these family gathering's, they were always left behind, always in between.

"Hey Teddy, having fun?"

"As always." He smiled his charming, lopsided smile. "Want to out into the garden?"

She nodded in reply.

"You know what we are?" She asked after a few minutes of silence, looking at him. His turquoise hair was bright even in the darkness. "We're the inbetweeners."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we aren't old enough to be adults, but we aren't children either. We're just inbetween, you know?"

He smiled. "I hadn't thought of it like that before. At least we're inbetweeners together." He squeezed her hand quickly, before dropping it and blushing.

It was only then that it struck Victoire that they really were inbetweeners. Neither here nor there. Not quite still, but not sure of a direction. In between childhood and adulthood. Not quite together, but not apart either.

She smiled the odd sort of smile that can only be smiled when the heavy weight of ignorance has been lifted and realisation has been finally been reached. They weren't just inbetween ages, they were in between friendship and romance, too.


	42. Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Not too sure about how well this turned out. I think I like it, although I'm definitely working on my endings for next time. Please review and tell me what you think!_

Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood

When Draco was eighteen, he repeated his last year of Hogwarts. People didn't want him there, and he more than knew it.

Luna was seventeen, that year. She spoke to him, much to the distain of her friends, peers and sometimes even teachers, although they did more tactfully.

Luna wasn't mean to him. Actually, she was rather friendly. She said they were friends, and he didn't doubt that. He had so few friends at the time, he didn't really care. As long as she didn't advertise the fact, he was fine with it.

Draco pushed her away when she kissed him. She was sweet and slightly odd, and he in turn found her oddly endearing. The kiss had been nice. Nicer than the rough, needy kisses he gave and received forcefully from his past flings.

But what little reputation he had left couldn't stand the battering Luna would undoubtedly cause. His pride, too, forbid him from pursuing her further. He had done unforgivable things, but he was a Malfoy. His pride and his well kept masquerade was all he had left.

Just as he had finally managed to rid his mind of the look of hurt on her face as he turned her down, he saw her again, some years later.

She was married, as he was. But unlike him, she was happy. Any fool in the street could see that. She was glowing.

It was only then that something deep inside him began to ache, and, had he been a more emotional person, he might have allowed a tear to roll down his alabaster cheek.

Maybe he should have sacrificed his nonexistent reputation and pride for her. Maybe they should have been together.

There are tears Draco will not allow and regrets he refuses to forget, but his greatest mistake and dearest memory is always the same person. Always the same Luna Lovegood.


	43. Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Okay, first, I see this set a few years after Hogwarts, Dean and Lavender meet up again. It makes more sense if you know that! And: I HATE FLUFF!! Which this really is! Please review to make me feel a little less bad about writing such horrible fluff._

Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown

'I don't understand the point of this.' Lavender pouted, looking at Dean expectantly.

Dean didn't look up from the jigsaw. He liked jigsaws. Solving challenges like this he could do, it made him feel like not all problems were awful and unsolvable. 'You put the pieces together to make a picture.' He said slowly, as if speaking to a child.

'Yes I know that, but why?' She said, 'Why not just buy a picture?'

'Because where's the fun in that?' He said, looking up at her now. She looked lovely.

'Well, for one thing, there's a piece missing.' She gestured to the space in now finished jigsaw. There was indeed a missing piece, the wood of the table was looming through the gap, beside the blue sky in the puzzle.

'It doesn't matter.' Dean shrugged. 'We'll find it.'

Lavender sat quietly for a few moments, looking between Dean and the jigsaw puzzle. 'Like I found you again?'

'Yes.' He smiled widely, kissing those soft, pink lips he found so irresistible. 'Just like that.'


	44. Ron Weasley and Pansy Parkinson

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I don't know how well this works, to be honest, but I'm quite fond of it. If you think it's completely ridiculous, I'd love to know how you think I could improve it! Or if you see anywhere my present tense slips, please, please tell me! The final line is based on an Andy Warhol quote, so if you recognize it, that's where from._

Ron Weasley and Pansy Parkinson

The street is busy. People are running about in the hustle and bustle, careful not to run into each other. People aren't talking to each other, but there are smiles a plenty.

A small woman with black hair pushes out of Eeylops Owl Emporium, a new sooty feathered owl in a copper cage. She is pale, very pale, with normal features. Small eyes and big lips. Her brow is firm and jaw line is set. Her harsh exterior tells the people in the street not to bother her.

A tall man with scruffy, ginger hair strolls out of Quality Quidditch Supplies, hands stuffed in pockets. He too is pale, with many freckles are scattered across his skin, and there is the tip of a scar at his neck which disappears down the collar of his jacket. He looks soft somehow, with his flushed cheeks and kind, laughing eyes.

They cross each other as they leave the respective shops. He doesn't recognize her, but why should he? It has been years since Hogwarts. They were in the same year, but they never spoke, although her 'friends' were hardly the nicest of people towards the red-haired man and his friends. She supposes she wasn't the nicest to them either, but she regrets that now. They were just too different.

They never really met at school, and they probably will not meet now either, or in the future. He smiles to her, and she almost misses it. Had she raised her head from her owl a moment later then she would have done. Luckily, she doesn't though. It is just the barest hint of a charming smile, slightly lopsided. It sends chills down her spine and a shiver warms somewhere deep inside of her. She holds his gaze for a single second. Her eyes are bright and electric.

She continues to walk down the street, as her new owl hoots, snapping her attention back to reality.

Because sometimes, the most exciting attractions are between two opposites that never met.


	45. Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Some uber fluffy and ridiculous Ginny/Neville, inspired by Stephen and Maddie, who are role-played by myself and Kristen (harryhermionerw) over at Hogwarts, A History: A Harry Potter RPG (find it under forums if you like!) Reviews make me happy! _

Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom

'Ginny, I really don't want to do this.'

Neville stood in the corner of the room sheepishly.

'Well whether you like it or not there is going to be a ball and you might have to dance!' She stood with her hands on her hips, hair thrown back into a messy ponytail.

'I know, will you help me?'

She nodded triumphantly, flicking her wand into the air. Gentle music filled the room. Ginny moved lightly towards him. She gestured for Neville to dance too.

He moved his limbs in a jerky manner and twisted his hips awkwardly.

Ginny suppressed a giggle. 'No, Neville. Like this!'

She placed her hands on either side of his waist and began to sway her body in time with the music. Neville put his hands on her shoulders and tried to move with her. He looked down at her. He was captivated by her fluid, hypnotic dancing.

They were standing close, arms touching hips and shoulders in an innocently intimate way.

'I think you're getting the hang of it.' She breathed, looking up at him.

'You're a good teacher.' He leant down a pressed his lips against hers shyly. He pulled away and nervously asked, 'Come to the ball with me?'

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with much more fervour than before. 'Of course.'


	46. Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Of all that I've posted, I think this is one I'm least sure of, maybe it's because of my fear of Albus/Minnie being out of character. So opinions would be wonderful!_

Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall

Minerva swept into the headmasters office. 'You are going to die.'

'My darling Minerva,' he looked at her, eyes still sparkling behind his half moon glasses, 'we are all going to die.'

'No. Don't do this. You are going to die _soon._' She said, her stern face sad and her eyes filled tears she would not, had never, allowed to fall.

'Alas, it is true. I am dying.' He told her, not sadly, for he had already accepted and embraced this fate. 'May I ask how you knew this?'

'Because I know you, you silly fool, I know you!' She slammed her fist onto the table top. 'Why would you try to hide this from me?'

'Because I am old. I am just no more than a piece of chess. My part has been played and I do not matter anymore -'

'You matter to me!' Her eyes were full of fire, hiding a much deeper pain as she spoke. 'What will _I_ do without you?'

'You will be fine, my dear.' Albus held her hand affectionately. 'Where there is love, distance doesn't matter. We'll be together again.'

He rose carefully and kissed her forehead. She nodded slightly. Sometimes she hated that he was always right. She hated even more that she loved him anyway.


	47. Parvati Patil and Dean Thomas

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Relates to my oneshot, Forgotten Roses, on which this is based. I hope you like this lovely, angsty Parvati/Dean!_

Parvati Patil and Dean Thomas

Parvati/Dean

Today I was walking down the street and I saw a couple. Not an extraordinary couple. Not wonderful or beautiful. Just a normal man, well dressed with neat hair, and a regular woman. They were walking down the street in front of me before turning into a bakery. They were holding hands and laughing together.

They reminded me of Dean and I. Before Dean married Lavender and Seamus and I became an item. They looked happy, that couple in the street. No wistful looks at someone else, no obvious wishes to be embracing another. They wanted each other.

Dean wanted me once, just as much as I wanted him. We helped and loved each other. I still love him. Lavender clearly just needed him more than I did.

And I'm happy for them. Lavender is my best friend and Dean is the man I love. I want nothing more to see them happy. Which they are, together.

Seamus is wonderful, and kind and funny. But he isn't Dean. Seamus' smile doesn't spark a fire inside me like Dean's. He doesn't set my soul alight. He doesn't make my heart feel whole.

But I try to tell myself I love Seamus. I try to tell myself I'm happy for Lavender. But I'm lying to myself on both accounts. Because I love Dean.


	48. Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch Fletchley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Wow, I'm really proud of this one, which is unexpected! Please review and tell me if you liked it, or just to tell me how bad it was!_

Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley

__

You should be with someone who knows what he has when he has you - Friends

'I'm not in love.' He tells her as they sit at dinner, hands joined. She just smiles at him, like she knows something he doesn't. Like she believes all she has to do is sit and wait for him to come to some sort of realisation.

'I'm not in love.' He says that night, right before showering her little face with kisses. She tilts her head back and his lips move lower. He tells her again that he isn't in love.

'I'm not in love.' He repeats huskily, when they are more one person than two and their bodies are together and slick with passion.

'Hannah, I-' He calls after her as she leaves his apartment. He sinks back against the wall and runs his fingers across his lips. They are the same lips that assaulted her body and abused her love only days before. They feel hard and dry under his cold finger tips.

--

He sits at Hannah's wedding. He is not on the Bride's side in the Church, but the Groom's. He looks at her as she kisses Neville. He can _see_ the love shining from his eyes, even from his seat, right at the back. He can see the Hannah is happy and that she is so clearly in love with him, too.

A cold chill runs through him as he sees it, and he thinks that maybe if he'd not been such a bloody fool he might still be with her. Maybe if he'd noticed that his heart beat just a little faster and his palms got a little sweatier around her. Maybe if he'd seen that love had replaced lust a long time ago, the woman he loved might still love him.

He knows as he sits that she is not the innocent little Hannah Abbott that he loved, but she is a beautiful, happy woman. Hannah Longbottom is a different person to him, and he can not _possibly_ be in love with her.


	49. Teddy Lupin and Rose Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I don't know how well it works for this pairing, but I really wanted to write this oneshot. Inspired by Phantom of the Opera, which I saw on Tuesday and which makes me sob every time with its romance! Anyway, reviews rock!_

Teddy Lupin and Rose Weasley

He glanced over at the woman to the right of him. She looked lovely in the darkness, the stage lights illuminating her face, her eyes were bright and shiny as she watched the performance. She'd seen it a thousand times. He had too, thanks to her.

'I love this bit!' She grinned, not taking her eyes away to look at him.

'I know you do.'

But if she enjoyed it, he enjoyed it. He fumbled around in his pocket for a minute, hoping not to disturb her. Where in the name of Merlin had that stupid box got to?

His fingers brushed it and he pulled it from his jacket. He looked about quickly. No one seemed to have noticed. He slid the box along to her.

He didn't look at her. He sat staring immediately ahead. He told himself it was some odd sort of romance, but in truth he was terrified of her rejection. He loved her too much for that.

He felt her hand on his arm. He was looked down to see the modest green stone sparkling on her ring finger. He grinned, looking across at her. She was beaming too. He picked up her hand in his and kissed it.

The second the show finished, she threw herself into his arms. 'Does this mean what I think it means?' She whispered into his shoulder.

He nodded. 'It'll be fun when you're Mrs Lupin'.


	50. James S Potter and Alice Longbottom II

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: For my James/OC pairing. I love this pairing. Plus this is my fiftieth chapter, which means I'm half way through! Please review!  
Dedication: For Kristen (A Catholic Girl), to whom Alice belongs. I hope I haven't screwed her up to badly! Happy Birthday!!_

James Potter and Alice Longbottom

I fell in love with him.

After everything. I fell in love with James Potter.

The same James Potter I had known my whole life, who upset me as a child and was my best friend. The same James Potter who broke my heart over and over by dating random, nameless girls, and I didn't even realise. The same James Potter who dyed my hair grass green and laughed hysterically as I dyed his pink in return.

I hated him and I loved him. My best friend.

I didn't realise it until History of Magic, seventh year. We'd been learning about the war. About loss and pain and victory. I sat listening to Binns droning on. That's when I realised it. People lost loved ones in that war. My family and Aunts and Uncles had done.

I knew I could never have gone through the pain of losing someone close to me. I could barely picture myself in that situation, but somehow I could imagine how awful it would be to be forever separated from the person I loved more than anything.

And then I thought of James. He was a stupid prat, but he was _my _stupid prat and I was so bloody in love with him I suddenly felt dizzy with the realisation.

And there was no doubt in my usually dreamy mind that he loved me too.

I stormed up to him immediately after class (James didn't take History of Magic. In fact, he laughed at me for taking it). He wasn't hard to find. I kissed him more forcefully and passionately than I'd ever kissed anyone before. And he kissed me back.

Because somewhere along the line, he fell in love with me, too.


	51. Ginny Weasley and Remus Lupin

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Mhm, I think I really like this one, but for some reason I'm not sure! Opinions would be great!_

Ginny Weasley and Remus Lupin

He kisses her accidentally.

They are the last ones awake in the house of her Great Aunt, in the library. He is reading and she is sitting by the fire, absentmindedly watching the flames dance in the fire place. She thinks he is not watching, but somewhere in the back of her mind she knows he is.

They are not close. They are friends, as they all are. He is residing with them for just one night, to make sure of their wellbeing.

She stands to go bed. She brushes against him, arm against arm. He turns his head to wish her good night, but they are closer than anticipated.

As their lips meet, soft and simple, and they can not seem to pull away.

Before the kiss can deepen further, some strong, invisible force pulls them apart. He has a wife, and she is barely of age. Her eyes are wide and shining as she turns and races up the stairs. His face is screwed up in concentration, the lines of worry permanently etched in place seem worse than usual in the bleak light.

She lies and tells herself she felt nothing, and he pretends he does not watch her with renewed interest as she goes about her business the next morning.

No one needs to know what happened, and they do not even admit to themselves the confusion that they go on feeling.


	52. Hermione Granger and Sirius Black

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Not what I'd planned to do for this pairing (I was SO close to writing angst) but this idea seemed very Sirius Black to me. Anyway, I really quite like this one, even if it is stupidly fluffy!! Reviews are awesome!_

Hermione Granger and Sirius Black

"Oh, blast it." Sirius looked down at where a cut now resided on the tip of his index finger. "Paper cut."

She fished a plaster from her bag and handed it to him. "Here you go."

He looked slightly bemused, but placed the object carefully on the red line, cutting the tiny beads off at the source, quickly checking to make sure none of the scarlet had stained his ancient copy of Quidditch Through the Ages. "Why carry plasters around when you could most of the time just mend it with your wand?" He asked, bemused.

"Well, at times like this it helps to have other means too. In case you hadn't noticed, neither of us has a wand close by right now." She told him, nose in the air. "There's nothing wrong with being prepared."

"So, you're _always_ prepared?" He asked, a cheeky smirk working its way onto his face.

"Yes, I'm always pre-"

He interrupted her, kissing her deeply. He wasn't at all shocked that she didn't seem ready for it. Afterall, it wasn't everyday he started taking her breath away with kisses like that. He was more than surprised when she didn't stop him.

"_Always_ prepared, Miss Granger?"

"Nearly always." She smiled, leaning into kiss him again.


	53. Pavarti Patil and Seamus Finnegan

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Follows the same theme as my Parvati/Dean chapter and my separate oneshot, Forgotten Roses. Inspired by Phantom of the Opera (movie version) because when Raoul find the rose with the ring on Christine's grave, I swear my heart breaks a little._

Parvati Patil and Seamus Finnegan

He holds her hand in his. They are both wrinkled and down now, a far cry from the soft flesh of youth.

They have spent a life time together, children, grandchildren, careers, retirement. They both spent years yearning for someone else.

She is so much paler than he has ever seen her. Her eyes are wide and hazy, and her hair, previously clinging so desperately to it's inky blackness, has finally given up and is laced with delicate grey streaks, like cobwebs.

She is staring into the sincere face of death. It is the same death that claimed her sister and one of their newborn children, a lifetime before. The same death that has been taunting them for years has come for her. She is the first to be seen to. Seamus and Dean and Lavender have many years still ahead of them yet, she hopes.

'S- S- Seamus?' She whispers, her voice sorry and stretched. 'It's the end, isn't it?'

'No, no, darling it isn't.' He bites back his tears in hope that his strength will somehow pass to her, will somehow make her hold on to life for just a little while longer.

He didn't love her at first. But oh, how he loves her now. He is so, so in love with her. Maybe he always has been. Maybe it was just masked by his love for another. It doesn't matter anymore. 'You can't leave me, darling. I love you.'

'I know you do.' She tries to pat his hand gently, but the gesture takes too much effort and her hand feebly drops back to the blanket that has been tenderly placed over the legs and lower body. She takes a deep breath. Speaking seems to cause her some pain as well, but she forces out the words anyway, because she means them, has truly meant them for years, and has not said them enough. 'I love you too.'

'Please hold on, Parvati.' He begs, squeezing her hand. They are silent for a few seconds longer as he watches her face. It is riddled in worry and hope. The lines etched across her face speak of pain, but also of laughter. She does not seem in pain, and for that he is grateful. She is somewhere between this world and the next. They both know she does not have much time left.

He puts his lips to her hand and kisses lightly. 'If … If you want to let go, love, you can.'

When he looks up again she is gone, a blank, peaceful look on her beautiful face. She will wait for him, he knows, because they are in love, and in their next lifetime, they will make the most of it.


	54. Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Oh crap, I really shouldn't be breaking my hiatus, but I'm in desperate need of angsty-fanfiction goodness because reality really isn't so good right now. I WON'T be breaking it again. I apologise for mistakes in this, but it was written in the heat of a not so good moment. See you again at Christmas :D_

Cho Chang and Cedric Diggory

The door clicks shut gently and her husband tiptoes in, shedding his clothes and slipping into the bed beside her. He is home late and he smells of perfume. It isn't a horrible perfume, actually, it's rather nice, but it isn't hers and it feels like a slap in the face as he spoons up against her smelling of it.

He doesn't love her. She isn't stupid, she knows that. It doesn't matter, because she doesn't love him either. She loves Cedric, has always loved Cedric. Most people have forgotten him, he died before the war really started, but she'll always remember. She wonders what her life would be like if he was still here, but only sometimes because it hurts too much and makes her cry more than she'd like.

She makes a conscious decision that when her husband is at work the next day she'll sign the divorce papers she's been carrying around with her for the past two years and leave.

She adopts a child, not long after she moves out. A little baby boy, only a few months old. His parents are dead and he has no one, just like her. She loves him immediately. She calls him Cedric.

She snaps her wand and removes all of her wizarding possessions. She doesn't want to remember anymore, and there aren't any magic folk in her small village in Scotland. If he ever shows signs of being like her, she'll tell him and make a return, perhaps.

But for now, she loves Cedric, both of her wonderful Cedrics. Sometimes she cries into her child's hair while he sleeps because she remembers what she's lost, and because she's so, so thankful for what she has now.

She shuts her wide eyes and she just can't help but wonder.


	55. Katie Bell and Lee Jordan

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I am still on hiatus, but I just finished my NaNo story and I don't want to start proof-reading yet. I was having withdrawal symptoms, so I decided to write a chapter of this. I really need to start re-reading what I write. Anyway, I hope you like it :D  
A/N2: Good Luck, and Congratulations to all the other NaNo-ers out there!_

Katie Bell and Lee Jordan

__

'Bell shoots … shoots … shoots … IT'S IN AND SHE'S SCORED! GRYFFINDOR ARE TWO HUNDRED POINTS AHEAD!'

His commentary echoes through her head as she scores in her professional match, ten years later. She had just scored, in that match, the points that put them so far ahead that it didn't matter who caught the snitch. That was the first time she had felt that she deserved to be on any Quidditch team. Lee had been so ecstatic that day, as they all had.

She was going to do the same this match. The wind was pushing her ponytail back, so it was flying behind her like a flag. She pushed her broom forward, working up her speed, and threw the Quaffle into the hoop. She grinned and threw her hand up into the air in triumph, revelling in the sound of the screaming crowd around her. She found herself waiting for just a split second to hear Lee's excited commentary, but she shook her head back to the present, where of course it didn't come.

Lee was River, now, after the war. He worked with George in the shop, and had continued with his radio show too. She still saw him a lot, but it wasn't as much as it used to be, and she missed him. They were still the six of them, not seven, like it should have been. Angelina, Alicia, Oliver, George, Lee, and her. They had, after the war, coupled off. Angelina and George, Alicia and Oliver, Lee and Katie. Except they weren't Lee and Katie, not yet, because he still hadn't done anything about it. She hated that she was too stubborn to do anything about it either.

The match seemed to drag on, because for one of the first times ever, she couldn't wait to get off the pitch, back onto ground level. When the snitch had been caught, and they had been declared the winners, a voice rang into her ears.

'_Katie Bell, someone needs to talk to you, by the hoops, now.'_

She looked around, but apparently only she could hear the voice, which undoubtedly belonged to Lee. She swerved her broom around, towards the base of the hoops. Lee was standing there, looking scruffy and handsome and wonderful. She hated how her heart seemed to skip a beat.

She was mere meters away from him on the ground, her broom dropped on the pitch. She heard the voice again. It was softer this time.

__

'I'm sorry, I'm a wimp, but this is the only way I can bring myself to say it. At least then you can turn around and walk away if you don't feel the same. If you do feel the same, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say it. I love you. I really, really love you.'

Katie grinned and broke into a run. Her arms were around him, her lips on his in just a few seconds. She giggled to herself a little. This time he had scored, not her.


	56. Michael Corner and Ginny Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: My hiatus is over, so I'm hoping to be updating more often! I actually quite like this chapter, so I hope you do too! Reviews are awesome, thank you!_

Michael Corner and Ginny Weasley

_His_ girlfriend is looking elsewhere again. He tries to look where she is looking. Harry Potter is directly in her eye line and she can't seem to look away. She likes Potter more than she likes him, because she doesn't really like him, not in the way that someone should like their boyfriend. They were friends before, and they will be friends after they break up too.

But her attention should be on him. Is it too much for him to ask? He likes her, he really likes her. Why can she not like him?

He furrows his brow as he thinks of something to do. There is a glint in his eye, somewhere between cheeky and melancholy. He reaches over her shoulder and pulls the book from her hands.

She looks up into his now smiling face, and she breaks into a smile too. They both stand up, and she is tall, but he is quite a lot taller. He holds it behind his back and she moves closer and reaches her hands behind him to try to get it back.

He teases her some more, but they are both laughing and joking. He will give her the book back soon, but for now, all that matters to him is that her arms are around him, and her attention is on him, and he doesn't want to be anywhere else.


	57. Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I wasn't actually going to update until I got some more reviews, but then I realised that I just couldn't do that, and wrote this. I actually feel really, really bad, because I love Lavender, and she seems awful in this. This is how I imagine Ron to have felt with Lavender, so it's his head I was trying to get into!_

Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown

'Won-Won!'

_One … Two … Three - _

'Won-Won! I missed you so much when you were at Quidditch practice!'

_One … Two … Three … Four … Five -_

'In Divination today, my tea leaves said that we were going to be together forever! Aren't you just so glad?'

_One … Two … Three … Four … Five … Six -_

'I told Parvati all about how sweet you were when we were kissing yesterday, she was so jealous, Wonny!'

_One … Two … Three … Four … Five … Six … Seven …. Eight -_

She has landed herself in his lap again, looking hungrily at him. Her hair is straight, her eyes are blue and she's clearly very pretty, but he doesn't want to be with her anymore. He wants someone else more, but she won't leave him the bloody hell alone.

_One … Two … Three … Four … Five … Six … Seven … Eight … Nine … Ten …_

'NO!' Ron groans, pushing her off his lap and standing up. She looks up at him in surprise, and he is almost sorry, but something inside stops him. He needs more time thant humanely possibly to even start to put up with the idea of her any longer. Because who ever decided that ten seconds is long enough was a bloody idiot.


	58. Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I can't believe it's taken me so long to get another one of these up! I'm usually writing them quicker than this, and I will aspire to be quicker next time. Anyway, I hope you like this one, for now!_

Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood

'Luna?' Dean called into the darkness. He didn't know why anyone would want to be outside in this cold darkness, but he knew enough of Luna to know that he should expect the unexpected.

'Yes Dean?' The slightly detached voice of Luna Lovegood called back.

He muttered a spell under his breath and a light shone from his wand. He moved slowly towards her. She was sitting on the wet grass. She must, at some point, have been lying down, because the ends of her hair were damp. 'Please come in Luna, it's wet and cold and I don't want you getting the flu.'

She looked lovely in the wand-light. It illuminated her face and her eyes seemed to sparkle. She was looking up at him, unmoving. He sighed, and sat down beside her.

'To tell you the truth, Dean, I'm surprised you're so concerned.'

His mouth almost, almost fell open. How could he not be concerned for her, after what they have survived together? After how close Dean thought they had become, _of course_ he had come to care for her, very much. She was still looking at him.

'I'm pleased you're concerned for me. You never were before.'

Dean felt a stab of guilt somewhere inside him. She meant at Hogwarts. Not many people had really cared for her. 'I'm sorry, Luna. I just didn't really … know you then.' _I didn't appreciate you then_.

She took his hand and looked into the darkness again. She was looking at something that he couldn't see, but he sat next to her, on the damp ground, in the darkness, in complete silence, and tried to find what it was she was looking at.


	59. Sirius Black and Lily Evans

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: More friendship than romance, this one, I think, but I quite like it! I hope it isn't too OOC or rushed, if it is, please tell me. Please review, as a Christmas gift to me!_

Sirius Black and Lily Evans

'I don't even think I want to know why you're still in the common room, but right now, I don't care.' Lily shook her hair a little and took a step closer, ringing the bottom of her jumper in her hands. 'Sirius, will you take me to the kitchens? Only, I know you know where they are, and -'

'Lily, shush, I'll take you.' Sirius stood up and smiled at her. She smiled back gratefully. She turned to leave, but Sirius seemed to think of something, and muttered, 'One second.'

When he returned from his dormitory, he was holding a sheer cloak. Lily allowed herself to have the clock thrown over her and Sirius. He stood a little closer, to allow the cloak to cover himself too. They were silent on the way to the kitchens.

Sirius slid the cloak back off them and they sat down on two small stools, out of the way. Lily got the feeling that when he usually came down here, Sirius was louder and friendlier with the house elves. This time, however, he simply accepted the hot chocolates from them and they left.

'So,' he took a sip, 'what's wrong?'

'It's a long story.' Lily took a sip of her chocolate, relishing the rich taste as it ran down her throat.

'I've got time. Is it James?'

She laughed somewhat bitterly in reply. 'Everything's about James, isn't it, with me? Yes, I suppose in a way this is.'

She didn't elaborate on the subject, instead studying Sirius's face. She trusted him tonight. This was a different Sirius, who seemed to be interested in what it was that was weighing down on her mind. She didn't let him reply.

'Sirius, can you do me a favour? Please?'

He narrowed his eyes a little, suspicious. 'What is it?'

'Will you kiss me?' She was asking so shyly, but that just seemed to make him more suspicious. Why would she want _him_ to kiss her? He decided against the sarcastic reply he would have usually have favoured.

'Why? Lily, are you sure everything's okay?'

'I've never been kissed.' she spoke as if only to herself, still looking down. 'It just never seems to have happened for me. I don't know why, maybe I'm not pretty enough, or maybe I just scare people. I'm not sure.'

She looked up now, catching his eye. He looked surprised, but didn't say anything to dispute what she had said.

'I can't kiss you, what about -'

'James? I don't think he'd understand, I'd be scared to do anything with him, to go out with him without having even a little experience. I wouldn't have asked you, but you seem so lovely tonight. Please will you kiss me, just as friends?'

'Will you go out with James if I do? He really likes you, you know.'

She nodded eagerly, and Sirius took her cup from her and placed it on the floor beside his. 'Just as friends…'

He pressed his lips gently to hers.


	60. Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: This pairing is an extra, because it wasn't one of the ones I was meant to be writing, but I wanted to do it! I hope this seems incharacter, because I seem to be having a problem with that right now.  
Dedicated to Rileyluvr, who reviews every single chapter and makes me feel happy about this story. Thank you._

Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass

'This is my favourite part of the day, you know.' He murmurs. He is already in bed, his bottom half covered by the sheets. His face looks content, in a way that it doesn't very often. There is something new in his eyes, a sparkle she hasn't really seen before.

She doesn't reply straight away. She is changing into her night gown, the short, grey silk one the he likes especially (and she likes, because it looks like sewn cobwebs, and it's a similar colour as his eyes). She shakes her long hair down loose. Now she replies. 'Why? Thinking you might get you hands on this?' Astoria smirks in an unladylike way, running hands down her sides.

He barks a quick laugh and pats the bed. 'No, as beautiful and mouth watering as you are.'

She slides into bed beside him, now genuinely interested. 'Then why?'

'Because, my little love, my precious gem, I know that I get to spend the next nine or so hours lying with you.' There is no edge, no sarcasm in his voice, and she knows she has to believe him.

There is a warm feeling inside her and again she wonders how she ended up here, in this relationship, in love with this man. In the end, it doesn't matter, because she loves him _so_ much. 'Good answer,' she grins and kisses him soundly. 'But really, the sex have something to do with it?'

'Maybe a little, but just the tiniest amount.' He grins back, ever so charmingly, 'but I do love you.'


	61. Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Okay, first, a warning: There is a LOT of bad language in this, because that's how I imagine Pansy to be. I'm not completely sure about this, but I hope you like it. Reviews rock my socks!_

Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy

Dear Diary,

What a fucking stupid beginning to a journal. Makes me sound like some bloody Mudblood. What would my darling father say about that? He'd be pissed, no doubt. And Draco, probably report me to the _Dark Lord_. What a joke.

_The Dark Lord_. What in the name of Merlin makes him think he's many better than us? At first I was all for it. You know, the whole class system. We are better, after all. But not _killing_ them, _torturing_ them. Just fucking inhumane, isn't it?

And then it consumed Draco. A mark on his arm and he doesn't want me anymore. I'm simply not good enough. I'm still pureblood, aren't I? And not the most unattractive person, I didn't think. He's just full of shit, can't make up his bloody mind anymore. Bastard.

It isn't even a pretty mark, sitting there, glaring on his forearm. It just doesn't _look_ nice. Actually, it's a good thing he doesn't want me, because now I don't want him. I couldn't stand to look at that horrible, ugly mark every day.

I don't think I want to marry a pureblood anymore. Bollocks to my parents, I'm of age now and I don't _care_.

But I just can't understand why he doesn't want me! There must be something. Maybe he's gay. Merlin, they'd hate that, all those people. _His_ lot.

I don't want to write anymore today. Whoever it was that told me that writing things down made them seem better was a fucking idiot.


	62. Nymphadora Tonks and Luna Lovegood

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I'm not a Tonk/Luna shipper, not even read it before. Not a hundred percent sure when or where this takes place, but it just seemed like such an odd situation which I could imagine quite vividly. Take it as pre-romance or however you wish. Opinions are awesome, I'd love to know what you think!_

Nymphadora Tonks and Luna Lovegood

_One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Don't fall in the ice. Careful, be very, very caref -_

THUD.

THUMP.

'OUCH!'

Tonks looked up from the icy grass where she was sitting. Well, not sitting, so much as flailing on the ground. At least she was close enough to the end of garden, by the trees, so that she couldn't be seen easily from the house.

'Tonks? Are you okay?'

Tonks stopped thrashing, calmed down and looked up. It was Luna, the funny, dreamy girl she was slowly but surely becoming more and more fond of. She was a friend of Ginny's primarily, but a friend was a friend.

'Wotcher, Luna. I'm fine, just being me. You know how it is.' Tonks replied with a grin, rubbing her arse, where she would surely get a bruise. 'Luna, why are you sitting on the cold grass?'

She smiled, eyes unblinking. 'I'm waiting for the birds.'

Tonks nodded. 'What do these birds do? I take it they aren't just normal birds, blue tits and such.'

'Oh, they are actually. I'm ever so fond of tits. They're very pretty.'

Luna held her gaze and Tonks wasn't sure whether she was joking or not, or even talking about the birds anymore. She snorted and shook her head. 'Help me up, you silly girl and let's go and get some of Molly's hot chocolate.'


	63. Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Another first time pairing for me. I tried to make Hermione seem like a teenager, without making her TOO much of a teenager. I've found it's easier said than done. Opinions are, I feel, greatly needed this time, so reviews would be great!_

Hermione Granger and Remus Lupin

Tonks is standing before her, wiggling her hand. A modest ring glints at her. Remus grasps his new wife around the waist and they look so completely happy. Some force, far more powerful than any magic even she has encountered stabs a knife into her heart and twists. She can almost hear the cruel laughter.

She cries later. She _never_ cries, usually, but she does over him that night. She _loves_ him. It isn't hormonal or ridiculous, she never was that sort of person. The feeling will undoubtedly leave her in time, as she grows and matures and changes. But at that second, rational thought it far from home, in her mind where it usually resides.

She can't tell anyone. They wouldn't understand. Merlin, she doesn't even think she _really_ understands. She tries to blame luck or fate. Anything. She can't think of anything to blame. It comes as a sharp blow to her, a horrible reminder.

Because she wants so desperately to believe in the things her mother does. The religion and God, something bigger than herself. She wants the faith that she doesn't have, because she can't believe, doesn't _want_to believe that she's all alone in this situation that she's single-handedly got herself into.

There is no comforting hand on her shoulder, or safety in her heart, or peace in her mind. She wonders if she was a different person this wouldn't hurt so much.


	64. Scorpius Malfoy and Lily Potter

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Although I spent some of today being annoyed at the crappiness of my own love life, this was just far too cute not to write. I hope you like it!_

Scorpius Malfoy and Lily Potter

Lily spends most of her time in the hospital wing trying to force herself to be better after she got muggle food poisoning. She wants to get away from the incessant dullness of this bleak place.

It would be worse, unbearable, if it wasn't for her friends who swarm daily to the delight of her, and the annoyance of Madam Pomfrey. Daisy brings her gossip, Louis gives her several toilet seats (which get confiscated almost immediately), Hugo smuggles in chocolate. Her cousins come frequently and her other friends come whenever they have a spare moment.

But the person who surprises her most, and who she appreciates her most, is Scorpius. He comes when the rest of the do, laughing and cheering her up.

He comes without them, too when he thinks she's asleep.

'Bloody hell,' he whispers in the dark of the night the first time he comes. 'I don't know what I'm doing here, I just didn't want you to be on your own. Now what is it that I'm supposed to _do_ now I'm here?'

Lily keeps her eyes shut, not asleep. Just listening.

'Maybe I should talk to you. Rose and Albus would mock me if they knew I was here. They have excuses, they're family. I'm just their friend, and yours, I hope. I have always been fond of you, and it's nice to have some time with you not treating me to your temper or your sarcasm.'

Lily struggles to keep her breathing steady and to stop tears running down her cheeks. She manages, wondering what he'll do next.

'I think -' he stops. 'There's nothing else I can say to you when you're asleep … but my mother taught me something that I've never shared with anything else, but I - I want to share it with you.'

And then he sings, only quietly, because it's still night time. His voice is low and warm, like chocolate. She can't believe it's coming from him but it is and it's so utterly lovely.

He comes again the next night and she pretends to sleep again. She smiles a little more at him in the future and he blushes a little more. They'll laugh about it in the future but for now it's just embarrassment that shines in their eyes.


	65. George Weasley and Katie Bell

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Just some light hearted George/Katie. The pairing was requested (I'm sorry I can't remember who by), so I thought I'd go with some fluffy AU goodness this time. just for a change! In case you were wondering - Freddie is the oldest child at nineteen here and working at the Wheeze, Artie is eighteen in his final year and Laura is sixteen in her fifth year._

George Weasley and Katie Bell

George wraps his hands around his wife's waist, pulling her down into his chair with him. 'Careful! I'm holding hot chocolate here you know!'

He smirks and sets the cup down on the coffee table. It is immediately grabbed by Artie, who takes a gulp, smirking his father's smirk. There is a small dimple in his left cheek, which he likes to think drives the girls at Hogwarts crazy.

Freddie takes it from him and is about to take a sip when his sister (about a foot shorter than both her brothers) takes him from him and goes to dip a biscuit in it. Artie tries to reclaim it, but she slips under his arm with all the grace and swiftness of the seeker she is.

'Why do you get to drink it? And where did that biscuit come from?' Freddie pouts. People never would have believed that he was the oldest, just by a year mind you, but the oldest nonetheless. He jokes more than anyone, but feels so incredibly deeply.

'Because I'm a growing girl!' She dips the biscuit in a takes a bite.

'Like hell you are! You haven't grown in at least a year!' Artie makes another move to take the cup, but she simply steps out of the way.

'Piss off, I have!' She shoves the remainder of the soggy biscuit into her mouth and drinks down the rest of the chocolate, setting the cup back on the tray, smiling sweetly at her mother. Katie gave up long ago trying to reprimand her daughter for her foul mouth. Laura skips away, Artie shakes his head and follows her and Freddie goes into the garden to do Merlin knows what.

Katie shakes her head and George laughs. 'Brilliant, isn't it?' George murmurs.

She turns her head a little. 'What, the fact that your daughter has clearly been spending too much time at the Wheeze?'

He laughs his loud, real laugh, the one she was once scared she would never hear again. 'No. Our sons, our daughter, our home. We have the most amazing family in the world. Insane, but with you as a mother what else would anyone expect?'

'You've got some nerve you have, George Weasley.' She isn't really annoyed. She turns around and presses her lips against his, then she kisses the area just beneath his ear. He's right, their family are amazing. But if he can tease her, she's sure as hell going to tease him back.


	66. Frank Longbottom and Lily Evans

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: In Frank's and Lily's sixth year, before he started going out with Alice but around the time Lily started recognizing her feelings for James. Lily and Frank are friends. I thought a few background details might be useful. I hope you like it, this one made me sad, but I think it's quite realistic. I mean, I know I've had similar feelings (though perhaps more diluted). Reviews are awesome!_

Frank Longbottom and Lily Evans

'Afternoon, Mum!' Frank kisses his mother's cheek as she picks him up from the station at the end of his sixth year.

'Hello love,' she pulls him down for a hug. 'My goodness, Hogwart's food that good is it? Well, never mind, it doesn't matter. Did you have a good year? How are those friends of yours? Have you been focusing on your studies?'

Frank laughs. 'Remember to breath! My year was fantastic, I had so much fun.'

There is no need to tell her that this has been the worst year of his life so far.

'And those friends of yours?'

'They're all fine.'

There is no need to tell her that his friends have been annoyed with him for some of this year, because they just don't understand. They hadn't managed to grasp what it was like to be so bloody in love.

'And you've focused on your studies, yes?'

'Yes Mum, of course. What else would I have to focus on?'

Lily, is what he has _actually_ spent this year thinking about. All of his attention, all of his time has been spent wanting her. He'll never have her though, and he knows that. With a quiet acknowledgement of his feelings, he has tried and failed to move on. But there is no need to tell his mother that.

'That's a good boy. Just another good year then?'

'Yes. Just another good year.'


	67. Blaise Zabini and Luna Lovegood

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Okay, I apologise for the bad language in the first sentence. To fully understand this, I think you might need to read the Blaise Zabini chapter of my other story, What I Fought For. I hope you like this, and I hope Luna is in character. Reviews are great!_

Blaise Zabini and Luna Lovegood

He had kissed before, fucked, all those things. Cold and meaningless and harsh. At the time he had thought it was all he'd needed.

But kissing Luna is beyond all of that. She is soft and light, knowing and careful. Everything Blaise isn't. He is strong and firm, afraid and desperate.

'You aren't the man everyone thought, Blaise,' she whispers. In the moonlight, streaming through a nearby window, she looks even more ethereal than usual, but she is beautiful. He wonders why he's never seen it before. He wonders why other people don't seem to see it.

'And you? What did you think?' His voice is deep and husky, begging for the truth he never cared about before.

'I didn't think anything, I didn't know you.' No preconceptions, no bad ideas, no bad feelings. Just the emotion she carries with her, just beneath her faraway surface.

Blaise looks at her and decides to ask what he is suddenly desperate to know. 'Now? What do you think now?'

'I think you're the bravest man I know. You're so quiet and unsure, but you shouldn't be. We all think you're wonderful even if you don't,' she looks up at him and rests her hand on his cheek. He can't help but feel calmed by her. 'And I think there must be Wrackspurts in your mind if you think you don't have friends in us.'

This time his kiss is less desperate. He kisses her just because she's Luna, and she makes him feel better. They might not ever be Luna-and-Blaise or Blaise-and-Luna. They might never speak of this again. Right now, they are in a war, both fighting, both surviving. For now this will be enough.

And since he might never get to taste her lips again, he decides to take advantage.


	68. Bellatrix Lestrange and Alice Longbottom

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Weird little one. I hope it's in character and I hope you like it!_

Bellatrix Lestrange and Alice Longbottom

__

'The sad thing is, Bellatrix,' Alice spits out her name, though her voice is still soft. 'You can love someone, but still be wrong for them.'

'So I'm wrong for you, am I?' Bella moves closer to her, hands on hips, hair in disarray.

Alice is so far beyond being intimidated by her. She knows Bella's not secretly kind underneath her harsh exterior. She's a bitch, but somehow she can't stop coming. Until tonight. She's made up her mind this is the end.

'Yes, Bella, yes. You're so wrong for me and I'm so wrong for you. We're going to fight for different things,' she takes a deep breath. 'You'll marry Rodulphus Lestrange like you're parents want and I'll probably marry Frankie who's the most lovely man I've ever met.'

Bellatrix is seething. She's a Black, and no one turns her down, no one. So she has decided to end this affair. It didn't mean anything to her anyway. It's the humiliation she can't stand.

'You'll regret this, Alice. If it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure of that.'

---

Five years later, Bellatrix is on Alice's doorstep, teeth bared in a grin so dreadful it strikes fear into the hearts of most who see it. Her hair is flying wildly in the evening wind. Her wand is held in her ready hand, poised.

With a quick look around to the death eaters behind her, her eyes narrow and she knocks the door.

Her promise will be kept tonight.


	69. Fenrir Greyback and Lavender Brown

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: This is weird and I'm not sure I've got the magic and canon things correct. I think I quite like it. I'd love opinions, as usual!_

Fenrir Greyback and Lavender Brown

She is such a pretty little thing. Big blue eyes, tangled, dirty blonde hair. Long limbs and hips that curve so … _deliciously_.

Such a pretty little thing, my hands running down her body. Her wand is in my hands now, and an almost silent 'Incarcerous' binds her. She stands and I can't help but be a little astounded and impressed that her head is still high. An obvious pureblood.

She a pretty little thing. A low growl is torn from my throat by the mere sight of her. I use the crucio charm just to see her writhe under the invisible ropes.

I laugh as the charm wears off. I am done teasing, and so is she. My body stretches and a renewed fear is in her pretty, pretty eyes. My claws dig into her skin and blood trickles over her body, and mine. I bare my teeth and sink them into her creamy skin. She is just as delicious as she looked.

Such a pretty little thing, all mine.


	70. Minerva McGonagall and Tom Riddle

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I don't really like this one, it didn't turn out as well as it I wanted it to. Nevertheless, the same as always, reviews are great and if you can think of any improvements I'm open to them!  
A/N2: Since this is a tenth chapter (70!) there is a dedication. This time for Cresent (xoxcresentmoonxox), thank you for leaving such great reviews!_

Minerva McGonagall and Tom Riddle

Minerva is one of the first people to reach Harry, her fingertips touching his arm, her screams easily as loud as the others. She has to make sure he is really, truly alive and all this is actually happening before she lets herself celebrate. It is over, her friends and her students are safe. For the first time in her life, she believes with all of her cautious heart that there is nothing, for these few hours at least, anything to worry about.

There is grieving, of course there is grieving. She grieves later, after the celebrations. She mourns Remus Lupin, but she can't be sad completely because she knows that he has been missing his friends for twenty years. She mourns Severus Snape, the colleague she never understood but always pitied, but she can't be honestly upset, because she knows that he has been missing Lily Evans for longer than he would ever let on.

There are some she weeps for with her whole heart. Colin Creevey, Fred Weasley, Padma Patil. They were children, just children. And there is no excuse. There is not a reason in the world that could have warranted the loss of these children. Not even victory.

In secret, she mourns the loss of the boy who she knew in her youth. Not kind and loving, not secretly tender. He was inquisitive and intelligent and quiet.

She has to travel to find his body. He is in a room without any others. There are no other people in there, and as far as she can see, there have been no people. She doesn't expect there will be, besides herself.

She is isn't there to cry for Voldemort. She isn't there to cry for anyone, because there is no one who deserves her tears. She is there to say goodbye to Tom Riddle.

She remembers him, not vividly. Her imagination, never fantastic, has only got worse with age. She can barely picture his face anymore. They were friends, though it was never said aloud. They spoke and worked together. Intellectual equals, the only ones in their year. She might have loved him, she's never been completely sure. On their last day of Hogwarts, in the dark of the library, he had kissed her. He never spoke another word to her. The next time Minerva heard of him, he was the Dark Lord, to be feared.

She can feel the blood beating around her body. She feels strange, sadder than she expected. There is no trace of Tom in the dead face in front of her. She feels a stab of something inside.

She wonders when her Tom really died.


	71. Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Based on the idea I've used several times, which is Blaise is good and was secretly with the DA. I hope you like this, quite short, but I think I personally like this one! Reviews rock my socks!_

Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini

She is on her tiptoes and her arms are around his neck as she pushes her small, soft curves against him. Lips as red as blood caress every part of him she can reach. Her skin is like the ivory keys of a piano, contrasting so strikingly with his.

His hands are big, fingers spread across the curve of her back. He is big, and stiff and firm, body rigid. His movements aren't fluid and they don't come together like they used to. They aren't as one. They are worlds apart, light and dark reversed.

He isn't thinking about her body or her face or the times they had together that were so fucking incredible. All he can think about is the fact that she gave up. She was to much of a coward to turn her face away from the night and the safety of the time to see the wonder and the hope of the people who deserved her respect.

'Blaise.' Her lips are darting over his neck, fingers dancing over his chest. Her voice is no more than a whisper, low and sorry. It isn't enough this time.

He moves her easily from him, trying so hard not to reach out the capture the tear that is so close to falling down the face he still loves. But this time he turns and leaves. This time he doesn't look back, because her tears and her apologies cannot make him forget.

And Blaise never looks back to see Pansy, feeling true, painful regret for the first time.


	72. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: In only seven out of seventy one chapters has a character said 'I love you' out loud. I decided to dedicate this entire one to the saying of it. Take it as friendship or romance, or just plain, wonderful, horrible love. It's up to you, but I'd love to know what you think!  
A/N2: I forgot to mention before, Padma's fate isn't canon or at least it isn't mentioned. In the life I've written previously for Parvati, I imagined Padma to have died in the final battle._

Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil

Lavender, her body fixed as well as they have been able to manage, walks down to the lake. It is completely deserted, except for one lone figure. It is Parvati. No one has heard her speak more than two words since the battle almost two weeks ago.

She makes her way over. She is grieved beyond anything she ever expected. She has lost friends. She is upset over the loss of her beauty, but she is in no physical pain. She has been eating perfectly well. She's fine.

'Parvati?'

Parvati nods her head, but doesn't answer. She sits down beside her, close but not too close. 'How are you feeling?' Lavender asks, sympathy shining in her voice.

Her friend turns her head and Lavender wants to cry when she seems the emptiness within. 'My whole body is aching, my mind and soul feel like they will never be at peace again, but I think it is my heart that hurts the most. I - I - I thought I'd lost two s - sist -'

She can't quite bring herself to say quite what she has lost, but Lavender knows. She takes her hand and holds it gently between them. To say that she is sorry that Parvati has lost her twin would be an understatement and a mockery. So instead, she simply says, 'I promise I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Parvati.'

Parvati nods. 'Love you too.'

And with that, their arms are around each other and Parvati's tears are soaking Lavender's jumper, but she knows better than to care. Their's is a bond which is somewhere between friendship and family and romance, but not quite any of those things. It is a sisterhood, and they love each other, and that needs no words.


	73. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: AH! I'm not sure, I'm really, really not! This just isn't a natural pairing for me, so I hope this makes sense! Thanks to Paddy and Morphy, who helped me to understand and see some of the excitement of this pairing! Reviews and opinions are great!_

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter

The shadows beckon, his name rolling from unseen lips. The shadows watch him as he cries. They watch him, and he can't tell if they are laughing at him or crying with him.

He hates the shadows, where the darkness dwells, bitter and unseen. He grows up in the shadows. Someone, something, pushes him through the shadows, through the darkness. As light flashes into the corners where he resides, a hand reaches to him. He could change. The light would accept him.

Fingertips graze the hand of help, but they don't grasp. Slowly, sadly, the hand withdraws. It is years before it delves again. It saves him from the darkness, but the shadows reach him again. They always reach. The green on his tie is suddenly choking him, but he'll never say. He'll never admit weakness or defeat. To take the hand would be defeat.

He is saved by the hand he shunned. Pulled from the curling tongue of the flames, up and out. For a few seconds, on the back of his broom and amidst confusion and danger, he feels freer than he ever thought he could.

When he yearns for the hand and the man again, the war is buried, pain is lived with and the darkness is exterminated. He is too late, but he expected and anticipated that. Still, it hurts as the last glimmer of hope dies inside him. He thinks that maybe he was seeing things that were never there. Maybe he was creating illusions for himself. He's never admit it and he never will. Suddenly he wants nothing more than his home in the familiar darkness, but he can't reach that place anymore.


	74. Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Okay, Dean and Gin were together as teenagers, and this is how I see their relationship. It isn't always serious at the age they are here, and I wanted to show that because I don't think enough do. I hope I captured this, and I hope you like it. Reviews are great!_

Dean Thomas and Ginny Weasley

The snow falls, gently at first. That is when they start exchanging glances. Very soft and very sweet. Yet inside, their friendship is blazing like a fire. Exciting and unpredictable.

Outside, everywhere is covered in a layer of white, like thick, icy spider webs. She wants to go outside and he is the only one who'll go with her. There is a special sort of magic in the air, a magic that is more than that of wands or wizards. She spins in it as it falls from the sky, her red hair flying around her pale face. Her brown eyes are as bright as the snow, the brightest he has ever seen them.

He spins with her. He knows his friends will be watching but honestly, he doesn't care. What does he have to lose? She's lovely and he likes her and she likes him. They are young and that is enough.

Like most years at Hogwarts, the snow lasts for months, right into the beginning of March. They are usually the only ones out there, the joy has worn off for many people. They are content to sit together, under trees or in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, doing not much and yet everything, all at once.

It isn't anything serious. Just laughter and kisses. People start to question and the time they spend together grows less exciting, but they try to make it work. They are friends. They were friends before and they'll be friends afterwards, neither of them have any doubt about that. There is still a spark of something there, something that pushes them to try.

The snow melts away to nothing and the rain rids the air of the freshness and the lightness. They try to remember what it was like, together in the snow. They try to regain what they had for those few months. But the sun shines down, and the magic is lost once more.


	75. Charlie Weasley and Hermione Granger

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: I wouldn't normally, but I have a new story up, Painted Chains, and if any of you want to take a look, I'd love it. It's an unusual pairing (Helena/Baron) but I've not had many reviews. So, shameless plugging over with, on with this chapter.  
A/N: I haven't updated in AGES! This pairing was requested a while ago, but I can't remember who by. A canon moment, though I don't know how well it works, and I've abused Charlie's emotions again. I hope this isn't crap. Reviews for the poor?_

Charlie Weasley and Hermione Granger

Three o'clock in the morning and Charlie is woken by Hermione. His birthday party at the Burrow had been the previous night, and even George had managed to crack a smile and the odd joke. They had been so tired that not even Molly had put up an argument when some of them had fallen asleep in the living room, sprawled over the cushions and floor. Still, he isn't sure how Ron's girlfriend ended up by him. Charlie suspects that Ron is in the chair beside the sofa that they, and a few others are sleeping on, and that is enough for Hermione.

She occasionally thrashes her arms, fighting against nothing but air and the memories in her mind. Silent screams are ripping from her throat regularly, making no sound. He wants to wake her or put his arms around her and pull her to him until she is soothed.

He can't do either of those things. He can't bring himself to wake her. This doesn't seem like an unusual event. And if he were to put his arms around her, he might just not ever be able to let her go and Ron probably wouldn't be best pleased with him if that were to happen.

He has always slept heavily and peacefully, drifting into worlds where things beyond his imagination happened. He doesn't think that even in his dreams he could imagine something as bad as what must be going through Hermione's mind as she slept. He wonders if she always slept this way. Maybe it is just being away from home, or away from Ron, if only by a few centimeters. He doesn't want to think that this is a normal thing.

There is nobody the other side of her, just the end of the sofa, but if he moves he risks waking whoever is sleeping on his other side. He can't remember who it is, but if they're a Weasley, waking them wouldn't be the best of ideas. He lays still as Hermione's face becomes peaceful again, though he knows it probably won't last long. He watches her, and wonders where the _hell_ his brother is when his girlfriend (the one he secretly wouldn't mind for himself) needs him. Charlie will be there for her now, but in the morning he won't say a word. This will be another secret for him to keep.


	76. Susan Bones and Harry Potter

__

Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: A rather diluted Susan/Harry, just because it seems like a conversation that two fourteen year old girls would have about a guy like Harry. Especially the character I imagine Susan to be. Reviews are awesome!

Susan Bones and Harry Potter

'Why don't you ask him to the Ball?'

Susan gasped audibly. 'I couldn't possibly! He wouldn't go with me!'

Hannah's eyebrow rose and she looked at her friend in disbelief. 'Why wouldn't he? He doesn't have a date, I thought _that_ was common knowledge.'

Susan bit her lip, heart racing uncomfortably at the very thought. 'He wouldn't go with me. He asked Cho already, and she said no. He clearly wanted to go with her. Besides, he turned Morag down already.'

'Poor Morag, but she only did that because Ernie dared her to do it! I suppose he thought it would be funny, but I don't think it was. But really, Susan, I know I have to say this because you're my best friend, but I can't think of any proper reason why he wouldn't want to go with you.'

'Sorry, Hannah, I know you think I should ask him, but I can't. If he wanted to go with me, he'd ask me.' Susan sighed, feeling especially sorry for herself. 'Besides, I can always go with Justin, can't I? He doesn't have a date.'

'You can't go with _Justin_! He's our friend, but you wouldn't want to go to a _ball_ with him!' She replied, shocked.

'You're going with Ernie!' Susan looked up, wondering how Hannah had managed to make her smile so quickly when she really hadn't wanted to.

Hannah shrugged. She didn't like Ernie as anything other than a friend and they both knew it. Ernie knew it too, but he hadn't minded going with her. 'I don't like anyone, so I might as well go with Ern. You, however, do like someone else. Just because he's the famous Harry Potter, you -'

'Shush, Han. I'm not asking him, and that's my final word.'

Not for the first time, and not for the last, Susan detested her shyness.


	77. Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory

__

Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Something nice and depressing, because I wasn't in the mood to write anything else. I'm watching Comic Relief, and it's so sad, but then so hopeful. Credit Crunch or not, people care enough to give. It's inspirational. I've donated more than I have, because it's worthwhile. If you can, DO!!! Ahem, on with this chapter.

Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory

There is screaming as Fleur comes around. She is outside the maze. She is safe. She doesn't give a _fuck _what happened to her, or what went on in that maze. Krum is there too, with her, coming around. She doesn't care what he did to her in there, that he's there now.

Harry isn't out yet.

Neither is Cedric.

Cedric is the one she secretly wants to see, with his chiselled, English good looks, like no French man she has ever seen. This Harry Potter, he looks delicate, like the men at home, and Viktor Krum, for all of his talents, looks like he has been hit by a brick.

Cedric is the one who smiles at her, and treats her like an _equal_ and not just some lowly woman.

He helped her with one of the clues, one she couldn't understand.

He hugged her before the second challenge, when he probably shouldn't have done.

He smiled reassuringly.

She waited for him to come out, just so she could see that he was safe, and release the breath she had been holding. She bites her lip and smiles, waiting for the screams and cheers as he emerges from the maze. A victor. Victory. It's coming. He's coming. She can feel it.

---

There are screams, but no cheers. There is no victory as she sits at his funeral. No victory. No victory. None. No.


	78. Severus Snape and Hermione Granger

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: I'm sorry that this isn't hardcore, or even proper, Hermione/Sev, and I'm sorry that I had to put Lily in there, but that's how I made it work for me. I hope you like it, reviews are awesome either way!_

Severus Snape and Hermione Granger

The fumes rise and aromas dance and there is something unusual in the air.

His eyes dissect the class, ripping apart every tiny mistake, every unimportant issue. Every root sliced just a little too thickly or a potion just a little too thin and his eyes narrow, voice barks, students terrified.

His eyes land on her, from where he stands at the front, taking a break from his stalking, like some overgrown wildcat. He is ready to strike too, even if they don't know it. She stops him though, even if she doesn't know it.

He stops everything. Moving, abusing, breathing almost.

Her hair is tied back in a loose bun, strands breaking free in protest. Her forehead is shining with sweat and her eyes are focussed with determination to complete the impossible potion he has set them. She is leant low over her cauldron.

She looks like Lily.

Oh sweet Merlin, she looks like Lily. The hair, the eyes, the face is different, but the fumes distort and the potions confuse.

But she isn't Lily. She isn't. His Lily, and she isn't her. And Merlin forbid that _Hermione_ _Granger_ should cause a longing, a stabbing ache in his heart. Merlin forbid. Merlin forbid that he should, on any level, want Hermione Granger. The aching is for Lily.

So why does she look so tempting sitting there?

It is the fumes that arise and the aromas that dance. Fumes and aromas.


	79. Hermione Granger and Cedric Diggory

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: OHMYGOSH. I can't believe I haven't updated in so long! My attention seems to have been split two ways, between schoolwork and new new story, Timeless Continuation (*cough* shameless plugging). Anyway, I'm so sorry! This needs explaination, in that Harry told Hermione about what happened in the graveyard, which is how she knows everything._

Hermione Granger and Cedric Diggory

A beating heart. (_Thump-thump. Thump-thump). _Eyes blinded by light. _(A flash of red? A flash of green? Is it even worth distinguishing?) _Lifeless limbs limp and lying forever at the wrong angle. _(Kill the spare)._

And every night she sees him. _Every single night._

She doesn't even know why. She wasn't close to him. She'd only spoken to him occasionally, but she had admired him greatly. She admires him because _he_ got chosen, not because of a cursed goblet. She doesn't tell anyone. She doesn't tell anyone about her dreams either. Because she's stronger than that, isn't she?

__

(Thump-thump. Thump-thump)

Her heart is threatening to break her with it's painful beating. She's sure it's bruising her chest when she wakes, covered in sweat and shaking, her bed sheets bunched where she has grabbed them. It's so loud she can almost hear it.

__

(Thump-thump. Thump-thump)

The dreams slow, so all she hear are the words. _(Kill the spare. Kill the spare. Kill…)_

She's terrified, and confused, and determined. All she can hear is the beating of her heart.

__

(Thump-thump. Thump-thump)

All she can feel is the beating of her heart…

__

(Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump…)


	80. Lily Potter and Teddy Lupin

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Sad, just because _I_ can. Love in reality sucks anyway, most of the time. Poor Lily/Teddy. No doubt this is cliche and over done, but I hope you like it! As always, reviews rock, if you have time!  
For Wotcher-Tonks, who likes this pairing, and for Miss Bliss03, thank you for your support!_

Lily Potter and Teddy Lupin

There is a silence unlike any silence you have ever known. He is standing before you, towering over you. But he isn't the tower of strength that he was when you were a child. He is a careful, sarcastic, intelligent man. He is a lonely one, you think.

'Lily,' he begins, voice strained. 'I don't know what to do.'

You want to laugh, because Merlin, how many times have you uttered those words to him over the years? It seems like a mockery. He's ten years older than you. Ten years. He's a _man_, thirty years old! You don't feel like a woman yet, but you suppose you are. It seems like you have to be now.

'You do know, Ted. You always knew best.'

Now Teddy laughs. Because he doesn't know best, and you both know it. 'I haven't known best for a long time. _You_ however, you always know. Ginny Potter's daughter.'

You look down and shake your head. You've never been afraid to say what was on your mind. But never what you felt. Open but secret; your greatest trick.

In a quiet voice, Teddy asks, 'Come away with me?'

'But what about tomorrow?' You reply sadly, unmoving. His hand grasps yours and holds it in place. You're standing close, not too close, but you can feel the warmth radiating from him and the slight softness of his breath on your face.

He lets go of you abruptly, then takes back both of your hands, like he can't quite decide what to do. He shakes his head. 'I love _you_, Lily.'

'Don't you love Victoire?' You know you have to be strong, because one of you has to be and it certainly doesn't seem like it's going to be him. He got engaged a few weeks ago. To your cousin. You've never been exactly close, but she doesn't deserve this. You wish you could ask her how she felt. You want desperately to think that she knows that he doesn't completely adore her, that maybe she feels the same, but there's no chance of that. It was her who decided they should get married.

'I do. I do love her, so much. But it's not … the same. It's not the same.' He tightens his grip on your hands. 'Please, Lily…'

You fight back tears. 'I can't. I can't do it to my cousin. Ted, I want - I want- ' you shut your eyes and bite your lip. When you look back up, his eyes are full of sorrow, and love. 'I can't. _We_ can't. Not like this, it's not fair. Life never is, is it?'

He nods in acknowledgement, echoing your words as if to convince himself. 'We can't.'

He hugs you, crushing your body to his with such force that it almost hurts, but you just him back so you are locked in a fierce embrace. He presses a kiss to your forehead.

'See you later, Lily.' He says, and you can't decide whether it's an apology, a goodbye, or (just maybe, quite impossibly) a promise.

So you smile, because that's the one thing you _can_ do. You smile.


	81. Cho Chang and Michael Corner

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Firstly, this pairing is indeed canon. Secondly, I always hear people saying how unlucky they are in love, but some people must be lucky, surely?_

Cho Chang and Michael Corner

'I've never had good luck with guys, have I?' Cho sighed, spearing some broccoli onto her fork and eating it slowly.

'No, I suppose not. But I have to go all year not seeing my boyfriend, don't I?' Marietta replied sympathetically. 'I guess your luck has been the absolute worst though. Really awful.'

Both girls looked sad for a few moments, before they were both happily and easily distracted by something one of the girls in their year had said to them.

Michael wasn't so easily distracted.

---

'Cho!' He called down the corridor after her when dinner had finished. 'Can I have a word?'

She looked at Marietta, who shrugged her shoulders slightly, smiled (or smirked, Cho thought), and carried on towards the common room alone.

'Yes Michael? Did you want something?'

He looked rather pitiful, hand knotted into his hair, blushing. He looked nervous in a way Cho hadn't seen in him before. He'd always been far too cocky and far too confident. She had, however, found him to be funny and rather endearing.

'Cho, I heard you talking to Mary at dinner,' he looked her in the eye, sincerity clinging to every word. 'I - I've never had luck with girls, just like you said that you've never had good luck either. I was just thinking that maybe you could be my luck. Maybe I could be yours?'

Cho bit her lip and blushed. The stones on the floor suddenly seemed more interesting than before. But why should he not be her luck? And why should she not be his? She had learnt, in the past few years that luck, both good and bad, came in unexpected packages and happened in unpredictable patterns. He _had _been kind enough to want to try, hadn't he? And he _was_ suitably handsome and witty. Besides all that, she was, surely, due for some good luck?

She smiled warmly at him and wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him. He gave her a quick, soft kiss, pressing his lips against hers.

The kiss was different to her others, and his. A promise, a wish, a hope. This time, their luck would surely improve.

---

A few months later, their luck has run out all over again. Cho wonders if she was delirious for getting her hopes up again in the first place. She's starting to think that there isn't any luck left for her.


	82. Ginny Weasley and Blaise Zabini

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Sorry I've not updated for a while, Cresent hinted _rather_ heavily at my updating so I thought that I'd put up this one that I'd been toying with! It's Ginny/Blaise which I've been dying to write for a while, so I hope you like it! Reviews are great, if you can._

Ginny Weasley and Blaise Zabini

His voice is smooth and deep, like the chocolate her mother used to buy for her even though they couldn't afford it. A little girl always should have chocolate, she said. It's not a thing she's used to though; a voice that's easy and sensuous to listen to. There's always uncertainty and unease in Harry's voice but it's the only other one she's ever enjoyed listening to.

She's ensnared in his voice, like a fish caught in a net, and it takes all of her will to pull her from her thoughts of it. 'Come on Ginevra. This kid needs you.'

She bites her lip as he calls her by her full name, something that few people dare to do. Yet it sounds okay coming from it, lyrical almost, but she doesn't dwell on it because she doesn't have time. For weeks Blaise has been saving younger students (and, on occasion, an older one too) from the house-mates he's leagues more intelligent than. She takes this child into the Gryffindor common room to deal with him, shooting Blaise the thankful, awestruck look she's become accustomed to sending him. He takes it without response and stalks back down the corridor noiselessly.

---

She's outside by the lake, blowing fluffy heads from the few dandelions she can find.

What time is it? She purses her lips and blows, once…

_Time for this war to end._

Twice…

_Time for the pain to stop._

Three times…

_Time for my heart to settle._

Until the head is bare and her cheeks are wet. She's had enough. She's had far too much, seen far too many children hurt, heard too many horror stories. She just wants to be a child again, but she doubts that she'll ever be able to.

Before she can hear him, he is knelt on the floor in grass of her. He blows the head of a second dandelion, sending all of the seeds scattering. They watch them dance in the air, floating into the distance until they cannot see them anymore. 'It'll be over soon. There can't be much more they can do. It'll be okay.'

She melts into his voice as he tells her bittersweet lies, and she believes them resolutely. There's doubt and sadness in her heart that voice themselves only in times of severe, painful doubt and need. 'But Harry…'

'…has won before and he'll win again.' He wraps her in a hug and she melts into that too. He isn't he Harry, but he's there, and he's offering himself in circumstances that aren't what they wanted or will want in the future. 'My Pansy won't win at this thing. I've lost her and she's lost me. I've lost my family and my fortune, Ginevra, but I want you and the others to win. You just have to keep going. I thought Gryffindors were meant to be fiercely stubborn about such things?'

She melts into a kiss that's like the chocolate pudding her mum used to make. Too much sweetness, but it's all she needs at that moment.


	83. Lucy Weasley and Lysander Scamander

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: I love this pairing!! Set in their seventh year. I hope you like it and sorry for the slow update!_

Lucy Weasley and Lysander Scamander

'You sure, Luce?' Holly looked uncertain as she held she scissors poised.

Lucy sighed. 'You know I am. You said you'd cut hair before?'

'I have, but it was only a trim for my sister, nothing like this-'

'Holly, cut!'

Holly winced and there was a soft fluttering as Lucy's long, strawberry coloured ponytail fell to the floor. Several more scissor cuts and they were finally finished.

Lucy smirked at her elfin face in the mirror. Her pixie crop of hair now framed her face, short bangs falling just above her eyes. She ran her fingers up the back. It was so _short_. Her family were going to go _spare_. Oddly, she could only think of one person whose opinion she really cared for.

'Holly, what if Lysander doesn't like it?'

'He will.' She replied without doubt.

Lucy grinned and hugged her friend as the mirror behind them said, 'Sometimes I wish you girls would discuss something _other_ than Lysander. Since when did a man's opinion matter anyway?'

'Shush you,' Lucy snapped at it, skipping from the dormitory. 'I don't talk about him that often…'

---

Lysander could feel his mouth falling open as Lucy flops down onto the grass beside him. She looked so different, so much older. She looked like the person she had been for years.

'Afternoon, Lucy.'

'Afternoon Lysander.' She fell back so she was lying on the grass, plucking up a daisy and twirling it between her fingers. Lysander still sat, but turned so he was facing her a little more.

'I like your hair.' He said shyly, pinkness spreading across his pale cheeks. He coughed slightly and changed the subject before she could reply, falling back so he was lying beside her. 'The clouds look so beautiful today.'

His voice took on a whimsical tone which had become something of his signature. Lucy liked the sound of his voice when he spoke of things like that. He sounded so passionate and caring. She had long ago blanked out the part of her mind that screamed, _Why have I not heard the same fascination and fondness in his voice when he talks about me? _But it broke though especially that day. She ignored it. 'I don't understand the wonder of the sky. What is it about the clouds, the stars, the sky?'

'Oh Luce, look at it! There's so much out there, so much still to discover! The patterns of the stars are so enthralling, and the clouds.' He got a faraway look in his eyes as he gazed at a cloud which Lucy thought looked rather like an apple. 'They're so … magical.'

Lucy smirked and laughed softly. 'I think most things are around here.'

In one gentle movement, Lysander's head was tilted towards hers and his eyes were fixated on her. 'Some things more magical than others, wouldn't you agree?' He asked quietly, voice still whimsical and wonderful, and they both blushed. His hand was slowly edging closer to her own.

She swallowed. 'I think there's some magic that I like better too.' She smiled nervously as he entwined their fingers. He leant over to kiss her cheek, like it was the bravest thing he'd ever done.

'I really do like your hair.' He murmured, low and soft. Lucy bit back a grin. There was definitely something in his voice that time he spoke to her and she rather hoped it was there to stay.


	84. Rolf Scamander and Luna Lovegood

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: Luna/Rolf is so lovely! Rolf wasn't meant to seem too cynical here, he just couldn't appreciate what he couldn't believe. I really hope you like it, because I surprised myself with it. Reviews are ace!!_

Rolf Scamander and Luna Lovegood

Rolf Scamander didn't understand love. Not at all. He didn't understand the hammering of hearts or the confusing calamity of thoughts as they cantered across the mind.

He didn't understand how people could sit for hours on the park benches of London, holding hands and being ridiculous. He didn't understand how those people could waste hours like that when there was so much out there to be discovered.

_(Maybe it's just a different type of discovery.)_

He didn't understand how people could scream and fight with each other, and still crawl into bed with them the same evening loving them just as much as before. He _certainly_ didn't understand how people could fight so much and crawl into bed in the evening, loving that person even more.

_(Perhaps that's what love is.)_

He didn't understand why, when something was so hard and so painful, people still fought to stay together. He didn't understand that not all love was like his parent's, who gave up when it got too hard. He knew that you had to fight, but when the fire is hot, it makes sense to take your hand away from the flame.

_(Sometimes, the burn might be worth it.)_

Rolf didn't understand how people could want to give their lives so completely to another person. He was perfectly fine by himself. He'd always been fine by himself, being independent and self-sufficient. He laughed when people said that falling in love was like finding your other half. He didn't understand how another person could complete you. He was complete and fine all by himself. His time was all his own, his research was all his own, and his life was all his own.

_(Rolf's heart was never really all his own. Later, he suspects it has always belonged to the same woman.)_

No, Rolf didn't understand love. Not at all. Not in the least.

_(Not until he met Luna. After that, everything seemed to fall into place, like the final, crucial piece of a jigsaw puzzle. When she was happy, he was too. And when Luna gave her heart to him, he found, to his upmost surprise, that she had his too, and had been in possession of it for quite some time.)_

No, Rolf Scamander hadn't always understood love, but it was a lesson he was more than willing to learn.

_(And he finds, as he kisses her with more love than he knew he had in his heart, that Luna is the most wonderful teacher in the world.)_


	85. Nymphadora Tonks and Severus Snape

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: I hope this makes sense, it's not so obvious what's going on, I don't think. It's not complete romance but I had to make it not icky for myself so, naturally, there are some heavy Sev/Lily hints. Sorry if that's a disappointment for you, but I really do hope that you like it! _

Nymphadora Tonks and Severus Snape

'Dora, I _can't_ do that!' Charlie whined.

'Sure you can, Charlie, are you Gryffindor or not?'

'But Anthea'll kill me!' Tonks was unrelenting. Charlie scowled, 'Fine, but only if _you_ get a detention with Snape -'

'That'll make a change, jeez, give me a dare worth doing.'

'- and tell him that like his hair.' Charlie smirked as Tonks's eyes widened momentarily. She tossed back her pink hair, a little longer than usual, and grinned. She reached out her hand to shake his.

'Deal Weasley, but Anthea's hair had better be properly green this time.'

---

'Miss Tonks, I fail to believe that you melted another cauldron simply accidentally. Your clumsiness will cause you problems.' Professor Snape sneered, fixing his black eyes on her. 'I was unaware that most Aurors fell down stairs on a daily basis.'

Tonks crinkled up her nose in dislike. Sitting in Snape's classroom, out of lesson time, cleaning cauldrons was not fun at the best of times. Now she made a mental note to kill Charlie Weasley. It was a cruel dare from him, though she supposed she deserved it for all she had dared him to do. She sighed. 'It's a curse, sir, it really is. Whatever shall I do?'

'Learning to walk is usually something reserved for infants, but it seems like an ideal place for you to start.'

Merlin it would be so easy to scream at this man. He was _insufferable!_ She didn't scream though, she couldn't afford to if she wanted to complete her dare. She scrubbed her cauldron extra hard, thinking of how much she disliked Charlie at that moment. Her hair flickered to a red a little darker than Charlie's as she worked, but she didn't bother to turn it back. There wasn't really much point in keeping up her looks in front of Snape. She wondered if anyone had worried about their looks because of Snape. It would be a little hypocritical. She giggled to herself.

'What is so fu -' Snape turned around, but stopped speaking when he saw her. She looked up, her eyes (vibrant teal that day) catching his black ones. Tonks shivered. There was so much sorrow in lurking there. She wondered what he was seeing when he looked at her. She could almost see the ghosts dancing in his eyes, and he looked like he could see ghosts all around the room, though it was empty besides the two of them.

She looked down, breaking the connection. Suddenly, the dare didn't seem so funny anymore. She looked back up. Snape was staring at a spot somewhere behind her, somewhere far in the distance. He looked harrowed and lost. Tonks didn't say anything.

'Miss Tonks you may leave. Next time you receive a detention from me you will complete it with Professor Sprout.'

Tonks hurried from the room, trying to ignore the fact that his voice was, for the first she had heard it, free of sarcasm. Free of anything, really. She decided that, just this time, she'd rather not complete her dare.


	86. Albus Dumbledore and Marjorie Dursley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: Complete crack pairing, due to a conversation on the HPFC. I think this is probably slightly AU, but I hope it's not too OOC or too ridiculous. You know me - try to make it seem believable! Reviews are great!_

Albus Dumbledore and Marjorie Dursley

Albus Dumbledore, humming the latest Weird Sister's song and smiling somewhat absently, knocked on the door with long, thin fingers. He didn't seem to notice or acknowledge the white, square doorbell just a few inches to the right.

'Albus, thank goodness you've arrived!' The door flew open and a short, wrinkle-faced Ministry employee by the name of Dwinkle looked like he was going to throw his arms around the headmaster and hug him. He looked worn out. 'She's … she's well, she's loud and leery and shouting, and she's huge _and_ we've already deflated her!'

'Ah, Mister Dwinkle, she sounds just the Ministry's average case. And rather the party animal.' His eyes twinkled behind his half moon glasses. 'I need to have a brief word with your dear friend. It is important that I know what she believes to have happened before you oblivate her.'

Dwinkle nodded, though he didn't seem to understand what he was agreeing for. 'May I ask why, Professor?'

'The Minister wishes me to ensure that Harry's magic was in fact accidental.' Albus said, in a tone which suggested he believed his task to be pointless.

'I see.' He replied, bemused, in a tone which suggested that he did not, in fact, understand. He understood perfectly well the barking, shouting sound coming from Marjorie Dursley. And he wanted to get out of that house as soon as possible. Usually life in the Accidental Magic Reversal Department was usually rather easy. It was at times like this though that he knew why they were all so well paid.

'I take it she's in here?' Albus asked, laughing slightly. He pushed the door open. Marjorie Dursley was a round lady who looked very like the unpleasant Vernon, who he'd been unfortunate enough to encounter only very briefly. She turned round immediately at the sound of the door opening.

'You, man!' She barked, 'Where's that blasted boy? Just like his dreadful father! Just the same bastard creature!'

'Ah,' Albus replied smoothly. 'Harry Potter.'

'Know him, do you? Awful boy!'

'Oh yes, quite awful.' Albus mumbled quietly, watching her as she began to insult Harry. He didn't stop her though. There didn't seem to be very much point. He let her speak for a few minutes.

After she had realised she was no longer getting a response, she turned to look at him. Her eyes lightened considerably. 'Woss your name, man? Rude to keep it from a lady!'

'Of course, how rude I am.' Albus swept into a bow, kissing her fat hand. 'My dear lady, I am Albus Dumbledore.'

Remarkably, Marjorie seemed to flush a little and withdraw her hand. 'Right, Dumbledore. Tell me, how do you know that _boy_?'

'I'm his headmaster, my dear lady.'

'At St. Brutus's? Jolly good to meet you!' She barked happily. Albus got the odd idea that she'd rather taken a shine to him. 'Tell me, d'you beat the boy often? Needs it. Some of them do. I had a pup who was just the same. Just the same. Horrible little creature. Not so bad as that boy, of course.'

'Indeed. May I enquire as to what he did to annoy you?' Albus asked, fairly sure that he only needed one detail. If Harry had used a wand, it would make things slightly more complicated. 'After all, you don't seem like an easy woman to upset?'

'Not generally, Dumbledore, don't like to make a fuss, but if I don't the boy'll get off scot-free. Vernon's too jolly easy on him! And after he shattered one of Petunia's glasses too. And I tell you, Albus, ' Marjorie fixed her piggy eyes on him. She rather liked this Dumbledore fellow. He seemed like a fair, strict, stout sort of a man. And he was polite, a gentleman. Something in his sparkling eyes made her trust him. 'I don't know how he did it, but he blew me up bigger than a bitch with a big litter!'

'Did he now?' He asked, amused. 'Some boys. Good job we have Brutus's, is it not?'

'Jolly good job! Now, Albus, d'you like dogs?' She asked. She was clearly unfazed by her encounter, and he thought that Dwinkle had probably had the good sense to calm her down first. Though it didn't take her long to return to the subject of the awfulness of Harry Potter. Between that and her dogs, Albus got the idea that she could have carried on talking to him for eternity. He didn't much like that idea, it was too much for even him.

He didn't even stop her talking before bidding his farewell. 'It has been absolutely charming to meet you, but I'm afraid I must leave now, my dear Marjorie.' Albus flicked his wand at her, and didn't bother to watch as her eyes clouded over and all memories of the past day deserted her.


	87. Lee Jordan and Ginny Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: This isn't my most fantastic, shorter than it's been for a while but I quite like it. I feel so bad for not updating so long - life's been hectic, but I hope this was worth the wait just a little. Also, I wrote a story based on chapter 80 of this, it's called Certain Inevitabilities, so if you liked that chapter you might like it. Onwards!_

Lee Jordan and Ginny Weasley

Lee looks at his hands, with their prominent veins and wide knuckles, as they encase Ginny's slender white ones. They both have long, artists fingers, tangled together in a mess of sweat and skin and nails. He grips, and she grips tighter. They're just holding hands. They don't even know each other, not really. He doesn't know her favourite book, or the way her hair looks when she's just woken up in the morning, or the way her lips feel.

He won't get to know those things, either, because Ginny's just his best friend's little sister. He's just the guy who does the Quidditch commentary, and laughs far too loudly at the worst times, and visits Muriel Weasley's house to see them as often as he can. And she's Ginny Weasley, who requires no introduction. She has hair like fire and a will of iron.

He's River, and that fits him better than any name he's had before. He's River. He carves his own path in this war, strong and silent and more powerful than any of them really realise.

So she's fire, and he's water, and they can't possibly get along. But her brothers aren't there to comfort her all that often - even Fred and George are at their shop frequently. They underestimate Ginny. She's fire, but her flame flickers when she thinks people aren't looking.

Lee sees. As they start to broadcast Potterwatch from her Aunt's secluded house, he spends more time with her. And even though he knows they can't work, that their very natures conflict so obviously, that she has Harry, that somewhere Katie's waiting, her hot hand remains clasped in his cool one, and they try to help each other through this war.


	88. Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: Wow, two updates in three days! How utterly unusual for me! I hope you like this, I was thinking about Sirius/Marlene a lot, and then I was so in the mood to write something angsty. Which this is! I hope you like it, reviews are amazing!_

Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon

The first thing that gets taken from Sirius in Azkaban is Marlene. They take the colour of her eyes, the feel of her skin and the sound of her laugh. They take the smile that she gives only to him, and the afternoons bathed in sunshine, and the times they spend with their family.

They take her, and he isn't sorry. Maybe they were always doomed to be lost and forgotten, just faces in pictures never seen, just another tragic love story, swallowed by the hungry jaws of time.

They are in photo albums, echoes of them. There is a picture of them, both quite drunk, looking quite ridiculous. There is another of Marlene with her hand resting ever so slightly on her flat stomach, like she knows something that no one else ever will, her trademark smirk wide on her face. There is one of Sirius with his hair in plaits and bows, Marlene laughing raucously behind him. In another, they are simply smiling and they look almost subdued.

There are lots of picture, but people don't see them anymore. They are in the ruin of the house, showing lives before ruin. They are in a photo album, buried under rubble and covered in dust. No one looks or sees them. No one remembers anymore. Not even Sirius, not really.

'_I wonder if she'll tame him?'_

'_You can't tame Padfoot, Lily. They're both as wild as each other.'_

Or so they said, once upon a time. There is nothing left in Sirius's mind but echoes. Marlene resides somewhere there, but they've taken her so that he can't find her. He isn't sorry that they've become just another story that won't ever be told. He isn't sorry that he can't remember the _exact_ shape of her fingers, her face, or the feel of her body against his, or the loudness of her laugh. He's not sorry; he'll see her again, when he's finally strong enough to give up.

He barely even remembers how he felt when he was with her. He doesn't remember anything much, except Harry, and Peter. So he's not sorry that Marlene is taken from him.

(_Because as his sanity is taken from him in his cell, they take the feel of tears on his cheeks, the pure anger from his heart, and the sounds of his screams and sobs when he realises that he's never going to see her again in this world)_


	89. Molly Weasley II and Oscar Davoile

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: This is Molly II and my OC, who features (just) in a few other bits. This follows slightly the same storyline that Molly was involved in in my Lily/Ted story _Certain Inevitabilities_. I wanted to write her side of the story, only I didn't want to make it angst, so the timeline is a little different. And… another update! Go me! Reviews rock, if you can!_

Molly Weasley II and Oscar Davoile

Oscar sidles up to her nervously, attempting a smile. 'Hey Molly.'

'Oscar.' She nods stiffly in reply. Truth be told, she's still so confused by him, and angry, and sad.

He sighs inaudibly. She wasn't going to make this easy, not that he's entirely surprised. He watches her pick at the hem of her sweater whilst keeping the book perched in her lap. The person she had grown into was so different to the child he had known all those years ago. 'How are you?' He asks hopefully.

She snaps her head up to look at him. Glare at him, really. 'How do you _think_ I am, Oscar? Really.'

'I see,' he nods. 'I suppose that's fair.'

'_Fair_?' Molly slams her book shut. 'Fair? How in the name of Merlin did you expect me to be feeling? You chose Roxanne instead of me, even though you knew how awful she made me feel when we were children, and the grief she still managed to inflict on me in Hogwarts. You knew all of that. But you still dated her. You've been dating her for _two years!_ And you've hardly spoken to me. I thought we were friends, Oscar … I'd like for you to go away now, please.'

She turns her back on him and reopens her book. Oscar doesn't leave and when Molly doesn't turn the pages of her book for several minutes, he pulls it from her grasp. 'Sorry Molly, but I need to talk to you and you aren't making it easy.'

'Yes well, you don't deserve easy, now give me my book back.'

'When you've listened. If you still want me to go away, I will.' He puts it carefully to one side, watching her to see if she's going to make a lunge for it. She doesn't, and he smiles gratefully. 'Allegra warned me you probably wouldn't be best pleased with me, even after all this time.'

Molly's face falls for a second, but she tries, and fails, to retain her mask of not caring before he can see. 'You can't have expected me to roll out the welcome mat, Oscar.'

'No, of course not. But I thought that after I split up with her-'

'You _split up with her_?' Molly's mouth falls open. Oscar nods a little, but Molly continues. 'Well, I can't say that I'm sorry, because I'm not.'

'I'm sorry though, Molly. I wish I'd known how horrible this situation was going be.'

'Why did you do it in the first place?'

'Because she asked me, and I was flattered, Molly,' He says. 'You must have known how it was for a guy to be liked by her. She was pretty and popular. We got on really well, and we stayed together because we really liked each other. But we had an argument a few nights ago, and we spoke about it the next day, and decided that we both needed some space. Roxanne was, despite what happened when you were children, incredibly sweet to me, but she's not … well …'

'Don't say it Oscar, please don't.' Molly stops him, looking down. He can see her eyes are full of tears though she's trying to hide it. 'It's too late. After everything, things can't be easy. It doesn't work like that. Go back to Roxanne.'

She looks down at the hand he's wrapped around her wrist. For all the times she had wished he'd been there to touch her, he was finally there, offering himself. And she'd said no. She'd told him to go back to her cousin.

'Molly, I -' Oscar looks so doleful that she almost changes her mind. He drops his lips to hers, and she returns his kiss. But she doesn't feel anything from it. Not really, not anything that she'd expected she would. No butterflies, no feeling of certain doubtlessness of this moment being the end of her search.

'I'm sorry, Oz. It's too late. We're not the same, this can't work.' She looks up at him and smiles. Maybe if he had come earlier to her, if they'd always been together, like Lysander and Lucy, then she'd feel differently. Maybe they would have been together. Maybe it would have been fate, but things have changed. She'd flourished, and Oscar had changed and they'd both grown into different people.

It's not the end of her search. Oscar does go back to Roxanne. Molly still feels a tiny stab of something, but it's not the same wrenching need that she'd felt before. She's glad that now, she can finally find someone who makes her heart soar, and who makes her smile like Lily does now she's with Teddy.

And somehow, even though this love hasn't worked, wasn't ever going to work, she's happier than she's been in all the time she loved Oscar. She doesn't think that love should make her feel like her whole world was meaningless and dismal. Now, maybe she can find a love that makes her happy.

She can finally move on.


	90. Bellatrix Lestrange and Hermione Granger

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: Bellatrix style creepy love, because I've not written it in ages and I miss it. Set when the trio are in Malfoy Manor and Bella's got Hermione hostage. I don't think this is too AU, correct me if I'm wrong. Correct me in a review!  
__Dedication (because it's a tenth-chapter) goes to L.A.H.H, thank you for reviewing so faithfully - I'm glad I'm doing something right!_

Bellatrix Lestrange and Hermione Granger

You scratch your nails down the side of the Mudblood's neck as she stands, limp in your arms. You wand is at her temple, but there's not much a wand can do that creates a feeling like this.

Alive. You feel alive.

Pure, rich blood pumps through your body, and you can feel the filthiness being forced through hers. Your nails pierce the skin of her neck, and you can smell it. Magic gives you power, a pure thrill. But this is untameable. Wild.

You're alive, more alive than you've been in months. The Mudblood isn't. It's draining, draining, her life. Your lips graze her hair, her skin, as you whisper in her ear. It's low and cruel and soft, and they can all hear it. They all hear as you laugh gently. The Mudblood shivers.

So do you. She's trembling in fear, and you love it. Fuck, it's amazing.

There's the smell of blood in the air. It's delicious. It's lush and thick and sickly sweet. You run your tongue along your lips. You're sure you can taste it. It's hanging, lingering, waiting for you to seek it out. The heat is stifling, and it's just compressing the scent and the tension, pushing down, forcing it onto you. It's under your skin.

She's your prisoner. Yours. Not their prisoner. No, she's all yours for that time.

And you know it won't last, but the smell and the taste and the beating of hearts is the biggest thrill you've found. You're alive, and her blood, dirty as it is, is more wonderful, more sustaining to you than water.

And even when the chandeliear falls and you're forced away, you can still taste her blood on your lips.

* * *

_And I don't normally, but I've got a quick question: should chapter 100 (the last one) be happy, angst, or creepy? I can't decide..._


	91. Lavender Brown and Remus Lupin

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: Not much to say. Just that I hope you like it, and that it's realistic!_

Lavender Brown and Remus Lupin

'Parvati?' Lavender rolls over in the middle of the night and calls out to her friend.

'What?' Comes the groggy reply from Parvati's bed.

'Can I come in with you? I want to talk...'

It takes her a few seconds, but Lavender hears her friend moving, sitting up, before she calls back in the affirmative. So, as quietly as she can so that she doesn't wake up the others, she slides onto the end of Parvati's bed. Now they are sitting opposite each other, Parvati puts up several silencing spells and raises her eyebrows as if to say, 'you woke me up, make it worth my while...'

'You know who's dreamy?'

'Lav, if it's Shay again then you can go back to bed right now.'

'It's not!' She grins, biting her lip. She lowers her voice, even though there are silencing charms that she knows are reliable (this isn't the first time they've done this). 'Promise you won't tell anyone?'

'You know I won't!' Parvati sighs, unable to completely repress the excitement and anticipation in her voice now. 'Just tell me!'

Lavender gets a cheeky, mischievous smirk on her face. 'Professor Lupin.'

Parvati's mouth falls open. She clasps her hand over her mouth and starts to giggle uncontrollably. 'You aren't serious, are you?' He's so ... old!'

Lavender starts to giggle too. 'I am serious! He's so handsome! And so dangerous, with all those scars!'

'Lav, he's not dangerous. He's a _professor_! And he's ... he's _old_!' She splutters out the last word and dissolves into laughter again. Lavender, who hasn't stopped giggling from before, just giggles harder.

'Well, I like him! He makes Defence interesting!' She winks extravagantly and grins widely, curling up under the covers at the end of Parvati's bed. The two of them talk for hours, discussing boys and lessons and people in their year, even though it's a Thursday and they have lessons in the morning.

Parvati looks affectionately at her slightly ridiculous best friend as they talk. She's hilarious, and Parvati doesn't doubt that when she looks over in Defence tomorrow, she'll see Lavender watching Professor Lupin intensely, through dreamy eyes.

_(And four years later, Lavender and Parvati don't get the chance to sit and giggle with ease anymore, and Lavender's adoration for Professor Lupin has faded to admiration instead. Especially when she discovers first hand the pain he suffered every month. She wishes she'd had the chance to tell him that now she knows what he went through._

_She wishes she could speak to him as friends, as him about Lycanthropy, because she knows he would have helped her to the very end. But it's too late now. It didn't matter that he was old, or that he had scars. They didn't make him dangerous, they made him brave. And so Professor Lupin holds a special, secret place in her heart for the rest of her life; she admires him beyond words, if nothing else.)_


	92. Harry, Hermione and Ron

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Firstly, I thought that you might like to know that I've decided on the final pairing, which I'm hoping you'll love! About this chapter, well, I've not written Trio like this before, and I don't know if it's quite romance, but it's love nonetheless. Reviews are wonderful, if you can! I hope you like it, and that it makes sense and is realistic._

Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley

'Scary, isn't it?' Ron asks, but his voice is hollow. Hermione has his hand clasped in hers. It's been an odd thirteen days for the three of them.

Odd and lonely. Lonelier than any of the days in the tent, the days that seemed to stretch on forever. At least in those days, they had each other, and could huddle together. Now they seem to be falling away from each other. Ron is hollow, Harry is guilty, and Hermione isn't going to let this happen. She knows she's come to far. They're lost so much, but gained so much too.

'What is, Ron?' She replies softly. She's afraid now to raise her voice above a whisper. It's foreign to her, the sound of her own voice, and the atmosphere around them feels like it might break if she's any louder.

Ron shrugs. 'I don't know. This whole thing. I never expected it to be like this.' He says, and Hermione can't help but wonder when he changed from the jealous, immature boy who she used to be friends with, to the man she loves now.

'I didn't even think we'd be alive to see it.' Harry says, speaking for the first time. He doesn't just refer to himself, he's talking about the three of them, and Hermione wonders why this feels like healing. He doesn't have to be guilty. There's nothing to be guilty about, they've told him repeatedly. Maybe he's finally starting to believe it. 'I thought I was going to die. I let him kill me.'

Neither Ron nor Hermione says anything in direct response to his statement. They've heard the story before, when he explained it. Hermione agrees, in a way. 'I thought I was going to die.' She whispers, and Ron tightens his grip on her.

'I thought I'd left you to die.' Ron's voice is no more than a deathly whisper for that second, but in a way that is so very Ronald Weasley, he is falsely bright again in the next moment. He smiles, his hand still painfully tight around hers but she makes no move to break free. Ron smiles somewhere into the distance.

'No greater feeling than looking over the edge, but not quite falling over.' He says with a quick glance over to Harry, who nods briefly.

'As long as you've got someone to pull you to safety again.' He agrees without very much conviction.

Hermione reaches round behind her, for Harry. He smiles gently and places a hand on her shoulder, his free one stuffed into his pocket.

'As long as it's with you two, I could face anything.' Hermione smiles, and though the air is still alive with the memories of the past year, memories that will haunt them forever, she knows that it's true.


	93. Rose Weasley and Joe Davies

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates on not just this, but all my stories. I'm sorry that this is so stupidly pointless, but I swear that I'm pretty much in the same position as Rose right now. Taken/Inspired by Rose's section of Not Quite Mr Darcy. I figure that if Albus/Scorpius, then Rose should have someone lovely too. (Sorry that I'm not sticking to the strict 100 pairings set, but even I can't write Harry/Neville believably!) Anyway, on with the chapter (*sigh*). Reviews are great if you can! _

Rose Weasley and Joe Davies

'I…Mum, do you think it'll be okay if I bring someone to dinner on Sunday?' Rose asked shyly.

Hermione nearly dropped her mug. Rose had never once, in all her twenty years, asked to bring someone to the Weasley dinner! Even Lucy had brought Lysander several times, and she was the youngest! Molly would be ecstatic. She was the only one of her grandchildren yet to bring _anyone_ to dinner at the Burrow (besides Charlie, but they'd all given up hassling him when he'd stated that he couldn't bring a dragon to dinner), and, truth be told, there had been murmurings.

Somehow, the rest of the children - the ones who she could barely call 'children' anymore, they were so grown up - had all made some notion of being romantically involved with someone (several people, in Louis's case). Now, Hermione didn't know all in the ins and outs of her daughter's life, she might have courted at Hogwarts. But then, she'd probably have heard about it from Hugh, or one of the other children. All she'd picked up from them was that they seemed to suspect something.

So really, Hermione thought that this was especially shocking. Wonderful, but shocking.

'Yes love, I think that'd be fine.'

---

'You're _what_?' Albus asked, struggling to stop a grin spreading across his face.

Rose blushed softly. 'I said, I'm bringing someone to dinner.'

'So, who is-'

'No one you know, Scorpius.' She interrupted her cousin's boyfriend before he could finish. Rose knew that they both just wanted the best for her (having been best friends, the three of them, for over ten years), but she didn't really want to answer questions. Besides, she had to get back to work. 'I'll see you two on Sunday?'

Albus nodded. 'See you later, Rosie.'

Scorpius turned to him, 'I wonder who she's bringing.'

'You don't suppose…?'

'I don't know. She's never said…'

'But she never said otherwise either?'

'We've never asked!'

'Well, we'll accept her whoever she brings.'

They both nodded, both suddenly looking forward to Sunday a whole lot more.

---

'Afternoon, Rosie!' Audrey grinned, piles of books in her arms as she shuffled around restocking shelves.

'Hi, Aunt Audrey, can I help?' She smiled, dumping her bag on the desk. Merlin, she loved her job. Working for her Aunt was amazing. She knew why her cousins hadn't wanted to join their mother in her shop, and she was glad, because it meant that she got to work there.

'Man the till, if you like. Afternoon rush time soon, you know.'

Rose happily took up her place behind the till, and opened her copy of Pride and Prejudice. She read a few pages, but put it back down when her Aunt came close enough to talk to. 'You remember I told you that I'd met someone?'

'You mean…'

'Yes.'

'The one who…'

'Yes!'

'The gorgeous one?'

'Aunt Audrey! Yes! Well, I've decided that it's time that I brought someone to the Burrow for Sunday dinner.'

Rose laughed at the way her Aunt looked delighted. Of all the members of her family - besides her parents, and Hugh, of course - her Aunt Audrey was her favourite. They were similar, and more like true friends than Aunt and Niece.

'This is going to be so exciting, Rose! You know what they all think?'

'I had an inkling, which just means that this is going to be even more fun.'

---

Rose had deliberately chosen a time to arrive a little bit later than everyone else. She could already hear them all inside as they trudged up the path. She could feel the excitement and nerves bubbling up inside of her, but she shoved the anxiousness aside and revelled in the fact that her hand was wrapped up inside someone else's. It was the first time she'd made this journey in such a way.

They were silent as Rose opened the door.

'Rose is here!' She heard Audrey exclaim excitedly. The kitchen seemed to fall silent.

'Come on,' Rose grinned. 'We're expected!'

'Am _I_ expected?'

Rose giggled more easily than she had been able to manage when she'd been alone. 'Probably not quite.'

She opened the kitchen door to gasps.

Somehow, knowing that her family hadn't been expecting to be presented with her very tall, dark and attractive _boyfriend_ made this all the more brilliant for her. And even though she was already so in love with Joe, after dating discretely for a few months, that her family's reactions didn't really make much difference, somehow the looks on their faces made it so much better.

Rose just smirked, squeezing Joe's hand.


	94. James Potter and Petunia Evans

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: We looked at slides of my Nan when she was younger, and this came to mind! A slightly odd pairing, yet again not one of the original 100, but I really, really hope it's realistic. Reviews are amazing - even if it's just to tell me that this doesn't make sense!_

James Potter and Petunia Evans

When Petunia dies, Harry gets sent a very old, very dusty metal box. It's quite large and scratched, and just because it's from the Aunt that he never really managed to forgive, Harry almost doesn't open it.

Still though, she was the last link to his parents; his mother's best friend for a time in their childhood. Harry knew, because he'd seen it.

So he does open it, because he knows that if he doesn't, he'll spend his life wondering whether some relic, some key to the lives of the most important mysteries he's ever known.

It's not a key (though the box was always going to be too big for that). It's a smaller, black box, a remote control and dozens of square slides.

He holds one up to the light, and his mother's tiny, smiling face shines through at him. And Harry's heart skips a beat.

There's no note, and it takes Harry a while to figure out how to use the slide projector, but once he does, it's more than worth it. The first one alone he would have given anything for. He has pictures of his mother that move and laugh, pictures of her life in his world. But these are of a lost world, a life he's never really known about.

His mother smiles at him, not in robes and school uniform, but in blue flares with a white blouse tucked into them. Her hair is red and she's beautiful, and Harry's struck by how much his Lily looks like her.

He clicks the button, and the next one is of his grandparents. The next is of his father, caught darting into the shot, is mother and grandmother laughing. Somewhere in the background, his Aunt Petunia looks wistful. Harry barely sees her, he's so caught up in these pictures.

With his heart hammering in his throat, he moves on. This one is just of his father, chest puffed out, posing (not unlike his James, really). His grandparents must have really loved James; none of these pictures look unhappy. He studies his father's face, that's so like his own, yet so foreign to him. He should have seen this face every day growing up, but he didn't see it once. Not for ten years.

That's when he sees her. Aunt Petunia, hovering in the background of the picture, staring at his father. She's caught in a moment of inescapable, undeniable truth forever. She's looking at him like … well, with regretful love.

He wonders what went though his Aunt's mind, what she felt. His father was a handsome man, and Vernon Dursley was not. He didn't know his father, but he knew that he'd been a hundred times better than his Uncle. He almost wishes he could ask her about it, speak to her about his parents. By now, it's far, far too late.

He clicks the button and the next slides slots messily into place. He's ensnared by the vibrancy of his parents all over again and thought's of whatever his Aunt may, or may not have felt, leave his mind for the time being. He thinks again later, and it plays back on his mind. He wonders. He can't help it. It's strange, not like he's imagining the lives of his parents and Aunt, but people he hasn't known and will never know, not on this earth.

Still though, he wishes he could thank her. He doesn't really look on her in such a hard way again after that - it's like she wanted to apologise, to give him some more reason for her actions. And this time, he tries. He really, really tries. (And he feels sorry for her.)


	95. Regulus Black and Luna Lovegood

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: Well, this is probably crap, but I rather like it - I hope it all makes sense! Sorry I've not updated in so long; I got an update from Cresent, and she's so near to finishing her 100-chapter story, and I can't let her beat me because she started so recently!! As for the chapter, Luna and Regulus could have been epic, star-crossed lovers if only they'd had the chance…_

Regulus Black and Luna Lovegood

A wide, red leaf falls into Regulus's slim, white hand. He turns it over, fingertips tracing the veins and running over the uneven edge. More flutter down around him, settling on his robes and skimming over his hair, and he feels like there is death all around him.

_Luna watches from a distance as the leaves fall in flurries, carried by the wind, away from the darkness of the tree into the light. They dance and swirl in vast torrents around her, the wind pulling at her hair. She wonders how something with life no longer in it can have such freedom._

Regulus can feel the wetness of tears on his cheeks, and all they do is remind him of how much of a failure he is. Blacks do not cry. Bellatrix has never cried in her life, he's sure of that. She didn't even cry when Dromeda left. Narcissa didn't either. Sirius never, ever cried, not that he could remember.

_The wind pulls up the spray from the lake, and she knows that the dampness is settling into her hair. It doesn't matter. What is wet always dries, eventually. She catches a leaf between her fingers and that is wet too. It smells like autumn days and early morning, and loneliness._

The leaves settle around him. The chaotic, erratic movements seem to pause, and Regulus doesn't miss it. He really likes silence. When things are quiet, bad things aren't happening. It's peaceful, and that's all he's ever really wanted. Not that he's ever really had a way to get peace. It's never been in him to go against what's expected. For the ease and silence, he stays and goes and is praised and is tattooed. For all it has earned him, he wishes he could go against expectations.

_Luna throws her arms out. She is alone, completely alone. The other students, the ones who like her and the ones who don't, aren't going to come and join her. It's not okay, not really, but she doesn't make a fuss. She never makes a fuss, because somewhere inside it already feels like she sees differently, things that they don't. She sees magic in the leaves that are more free now than she's ever likely to be. People expect her to be free; they don't see the constraints that they've laid down for her, but they're there as surely as the Baron's chains. _

A friend, a lover, a companion. That's what he wants. Someone who'll understand why he sits amongst the leaves and cries instead of going to dinner. What's the point though, when they don't understand anyway? No one he knows understands. He wants someone and no one, a person he's never met and never will, but maybe if he talks, someone somewhere will hear, and that will be enough.

_The wind whistles, and there are murmurings in its speech, sorrowful and desperate and understanding. Luna listens, as her spinning slows, and she doesn't completely comprehend, but she tries to make it out. Time passes and the sounds of the wind quiet, but she feels comforted. She understands, and somehow, she is not alone._

His soft, heavy words are lost, carried away and forgotten, just like he'd wanted. He is free of the words, but the feelings will return tomorrow, and tomorrow he will come again, speak again and hope again.

_And Luna always comes back, always tries to understand. Always feels less alone, and somewhere, somehow, it feels like this is what someone intended. _


	96. Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Just because you've met someone who seems perfect doesn't mean they are, and I hope this makes up for my being such a bad fanfiction author! I'm _so _sorry for not updating sooner!_

Hermione Granger and Dean Thomas

In so many ways, Hermione feels like she should be in love with Dean Thomas.

She grew up with fairytale Princes and storybook romances, and when she thinks about her perfect fantasy Prince, Dean probably fits the bill better than anyone she's ever known. She isn't openly very into boys (there always seem to be more important things to focus on, like school), but still, as she gets older she notices the qualities that she's always hoped for.

Princes in stories were always attractive, and she notices the way that he's tall, dark and handsome, with long fingers and gentle eyes.

Sometimes they had delicacy, and Hermione thought that she might quite that. She sees that he's a master with a pencil, and can create beauty with a stroke of colour.

Most of them probably don't actively practise playing classical music, but Hermione always loved the idea of a man who could play piano. Dean can play (he doesn't show off about it, but Harry told her that Seamus was teasing him about it in their dormitory), and she imagines that his melodious fingers would move with ease over the black and white keys.

And they always, _always _dance with grace and can dance, whirling Lavender, then Parvati around the Great Hall in their forth year, with a charming, quiet smile on his face.

And he's modest, not like some of the attractive people she sees. Modesty is a quality that she really, really likes.

Hermione feels sure that he's perfect for her. She's read so many books, classics and romance and gothic, she feels like she knows what love is. She waits for the feeling of love in her heart, the fluttering in her stomach when she's around him; all the things she's read about. She never gets them. In the end, Dean is just her friend, who sits and draws while she sits and reads when they are the last ones in the common room.

She feels like she should be in love with him, so in love with him that her heart hurts. But her heart seems to have chosen imperfection over the perfect, she isn't in love with him, and her heart doesn't ache (not for Dean Thomas at least).


	97. Cho Chang and Harry Potter

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: Okay, different take on the Cho/Harry relationship, and a short one at that. Don't know how well it's worked, as I'm not one hundred percent, but I hope you like it._

Cho Chang and Harry Potter

_Hope and despair walk arm and arm - Benjamin Sisko, Star Trek: DS9_

'Harry Potter?!' Marietta asks, grasping Cho's arm. 'You're not serious?'

There's a look of surprise on her face, like all the times Cho swore she's never date again, that she'd always, _always_ love Cedric, suddenly haven't happened. And though Cho is still adamant that she'll always love him (even if she doesn't mention it anymore, Marietta can read her friend like a book), she says that Harry had liked her before, and that some of her friends had told him that he still did and she's not got a boyfriend who she can use as a reason now.

Marietta also knows that it's utter crap; when she sees them together and Cho is still holding back tears and Harry is looking _awkward_. She knows that it's not fair for Harry to be second best for Cho, because she needs a rebound, someone to help her get over Cedric (though on some level, Marietta thinks that maybe it'd do Harry some good to be second best for once).

And again, it's Marietta's arms that Cho falls into, and her shoulder that she sobs into when she realises that it's not going to work, because _of course_ she's still so in love with Cedric. Cho's been drowning in despair for close to a year, but somehow she's still hopeful, and Marietta can see the hope faltering.

She doesn't want her friend to lose hope, but _come on_. Harry was always going to be a bad choice, he can't even handle his own emotions half the time, let alone try to understand Cho's too. Sometimes her friends annoy her so much.


	98. Lorcan Scamander and Dominique Weasley

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
A/N: Okay, here Lorcan is about thirteen or fourteen. This is actually one of the original 100 pairings that I'd attempted before but that hadn't worked, so I thought I'd try to capture the essence of a first crush with it! _

Lorcan Scamander and Dominique Weasley

Dominique Weasley is almost exactly eight years older than him. Maybe that's why she's such an enigma; she's already a woman by the time he starts to look at girls.

The girls in his year are giggly and immaturely and he just doesn't like them. They're just pretty, like butterflies who flit away when you get too close. They annoy him, with their incessant whisperings and gossiping, they don't like to actually talk or act without worrying about what they look like.

Dominique isn't like that. She's all curves and womanly … _things_. She laughs loudly without worrying about the way her face looks when she does. She has blonde hair, short and choppy, with green tips, that Fleur says is _so inappropriate_, but he doesn't know any girls his age who would have their hair like that just because they liked it.

And when his family are staying with Dom's over New Years (as has become tradition, something following on from the war, apparently), the room that he and Lysander share is next to her old one, that she's been staying in over Christmas. When he sneaks out to go to the bathroom, she's just going back to the room to go to bed.

Lorcan can feel his cheeks burn when she winks at him as she sways back to her room. She always walks like that, straight from the hips, and it's so hypnotic and it's so cruel and Slytherin of her, even if it is natural. It really doesn't help that all she's wearing is an oversized shirt, tiny shorts and big socks, so he can see _exactly_ how long her legs are.

The burning in his face and he quickened pace of his heart remain even when he's gone back to bed.

---

Her boyfriend is actually quite a scary guy, tall and dark and Slytherin down to his toes. He seems to be quite nice, and Dom seems happier when he's there. His sarcasm and depth are both things that Lorcan doesn't even notice through his jealousy, but he knows that Zanipolo Zabini is nice underneath it all.

So Lorcan doesn't feel bad that Dominique Weasley is the first girl that he ever has a crush on, because he's sure that on one, Slytherin level, she sets out to make people fall in love with her, and her boyfriend doesn't matter to him, and the age difference doesn't matter to him. It doesn't hurt him. It's all shaky fingers when she's around, and burning cheeks, and so called fantasies about things he doesn't have any real idea about.

She's a good person to have a first crush on; she's wild and beautiful, and completely and utterly unattainable. All the things a first crush should be.


	99. Peter Pettigrew and Mary McDonald

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: I'm truly devestated that next time I update will be to change the status of this story from 'In-Progress' to 'Complete'. I noticed that in ninety-eight chapters, I'd not written Peter which I didn't think was fair. So, in my penultimate chapter, here is Peter Pettigrew. I hope you manage to pity him a little…_

Peter Pettigrew and Mary McDonald

Mary McDonald is something of a pretty girl. She's not as pretty as Lily Evans, or as fiery as Marlene McKinnon, or as kind as Alice Prewett, or as elegant as Emmeline Vance, but she's quite lovely, in a quiet sort of a way.

She doesn't have James fawning over her, like Lily does. She hasn't caught the attention of Sirius, like Marlene has. She doesn't have Frank worshipping the ground she walks on, like Alice does. She doesn't have the attention of the guys with an appreciation of stately beauty and tradition, like Emmeline does. In fact, she hardly ever receives attention from guys, except for the ocassional, easy friendship she forges.

Peter likes Mary McDonald for all those reasons. He likes her because she's almost as awkward as he is (but not quite, because he doesn't think that's _anyone_ is as awkward as him), and because she doesn't shun him because he isn't as attractive or confident or funny as his friends. She likes him anyway.

'There's nothing wrong with being shy, is there?' She smiles softly. 'The world can't be made up of people like the ones in the history books, or the ones with boldness, can it?'

'I suppose not.' He replies, and she's one of the only people he doesn't stutter around. He's never nervous when he's with her.

Still, he isn't brave enough to 'just kiss her already!' (as Padfoot and Prongs tell him to do). He tells her that he likes her, and she smiles radiantly and kisses his cheek like it's the bravest thing she's ever done.

---

When she's killed by Death Eaters in the summer before their seventh year, Peter misses her terribly. Neither of them ever managed to be very passionate, like Sirius and Marlene, or loud with their affections, like James and Lily. Somehow, this stops most people from recognising their relationship.

But it was there, and even though he has the Marauders, he misses Mary every day. Now, there's not really anyone who makes him feel like he doesn't need to stutter, or like he's worth just as much as James or Sirius or Remus.

There's no one who really makes him feel truly brave, like a true Gryffindor. Now, there's no one who gives him the courage to say 'no', when it matters.


	100. Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom

_Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!  
__A/N: I've had so much trouble acknowledging that this is the end, because I've loved writing this story, and I hope you've loved reading it. To everyone who's ever read, reviewed, alerted or favourited this story, thank you more than I can express! I wrote this longer chapter as a thank you. I tried to write what I think love is throughout this story; it's pain and sadness and joy and excitement, and I tried again to epitomise that in my finale. I hope so, so badly that you like it. To all those who've followed these story, this one's for you, with my sincerest thanks._

Hannah Abbott and Neville Longbottom

_Let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone - Leonard Cohen_

Hannah is a fresh faced eighteen year old, with bags under her eyes, blood on her face and hope buried deep in her heart. It's cliché to say that she's seen so much because she hasn't. She's seen destruction and loss, but that's all. And that really isn't much. Her Hufflepuff heart tells her that things are going to get better in her life.

Over the year, the horrible, soul destroying year, it's Neville that she grows to love and to admire. He's the one that her Hufflepuff loyalty moves to. And they don't have anything immediately, but it's him who moves her shaking body to a nurse, and it's her shoulder he cries into when it all comes crashing down.

_You're alive! _

A few months after the war has finished, Neville has an apartment of his own and Hannah's been living in the Leaky Cauldron, in one of the rooms that Tom could be renting for far more money than she's paying for it. He never asks her to leave or to pay more. He just understands, and when she goes for days without coming out or getting anything to drink, he'll bring her up a meal in the evening and doesn't ask for knut in return.

Tom was her parent's friend, when they'd had been alive, and her mother had always told Hannah that if she was in trouble, she should go to Tom. Hannah isn't surprised.

Neville starts to come in and visit more often when she's helping Tom behind the bar (which she does, because he asks her to. Years later, Hannah realises that if he hadn't, she might never have recovered like she did, or as quickly as she managed), but she doesn't even notice until Tom points it out to her later.

They're sitting having a hot chocolate at the end of the day, and Tom points it out. Hannah blushes profusely and giggles nervously. But she hasn't felt quite so alive in almost a year.

The first time they are alone in his flat, somewhat accidentally, the air seems to crackle with fear and confusion. After they've been though so much, this should be easy. Hannah suddenly recalls her breakdown before her O.W.L.s, and feels just like that all over again.

She's an ordinary girl. She always has been, and she's always known it too. Why would Neville Longbottom (her friend, someone she admires, a hero of the entire wizarding world) want to have her in his apartment, after work?

But he wants her there, he assures her, and he's just as scared, just as excited as she is. They're the same, normal, wonderful person. Really, that might be why they work so well.

Still, he's not quite completely comfortable around her until she's met his parents. Poor Alice, and Silent Frank, about whom she's sympathetic and understanding (just like always), and after that, Neville smiles a lot more. So does Hannah.

Twenty-two, and she's working at the Leaky Cauldron, with Tom. She has amazing prospects, with her grades from school; she'd been offered jobs at the Ministry, that meant that she could be employed in a high profile, high paid position in a decade. But Tom offered her a job too; Tom, the man who has no one in the world, no real friendship besides hers, who has helped her so much. So she takes the job with Tom. She doesn't earn endless amounts of money, and she doesn't wear suit-robes and have a boss she can't stand.

It means that none of her friends from Hogwarts forget out her, because when they come in for lunch from _their _high-flying jobs, Hannah is there waiting with Pumpkin juice, a kind smile and a ready ear. Her friendships grow, and she is content.

Really, it comes as a delightful surprise when later, Neville suggests they get married right there in the pub. (And they do, Tom gives her away and their friends are there, and even though neither of them have biological family who can be there, they start this next stage of their lives with the people who've been their family since they can remember.)

_I - I - Of course! Of course I'll marry you!_

After her mother died, Hannah became scared, completely terrified of children. From the age of seventeen, Hannah had no mother, and she could hardly remember her father anyway.

There is an irrational, bitter disappointment on her tongue when the third, fourth, fifth tests come back positive too. Isn't this what most girls waited years for? She should feel excited, a great love for the foetus growing in her womb.

She doesn't. It doesn't feel real. Her stomach still looks the same as it did before, not quite flat, but not because there's a child growing there. She doesn't really recognise that there is any difference. But she's scared. More scared than she's ever been. More scared than she was in the final battle.

There's going to be someone relying completely and utterly on her and Neville, and she doesn't know how to do handle it. She feels selfish, because Neville's _so_ happy, and she wants desperately to be happy too. Neville drops to his knees and hugs her around the stomach, and there's a tiny part of her that's glad of the tenderness, but her mind is overwhelmed by the dreadful fear that's wound tightly around her heart.

She doesn't know how either of them are going to manage to be parents at all.

Over the course of her pregnancy, her excitement does grow, but the fear doesn't leave her either. Every second she is consumed by the need to do this properly, to not do _anything_ to damage their baby. Ginny Potter floats around easily with her pregnant stomach, looking radiant and carefree.

Even when her daughter (Alice Olivia Longbottom, they call her) is born, the fear doesn't go away. It gets worse, and she spends whole nights just watching her sleep, and if she didn't have Neville, then she doesn't think she'd be able to do this.

_I- I'm pregnant. _

Tom is Alice's godfather, and Luna is her godmother. Hannah loves their choice. Luna is great with Alice, she's a gentle and irreplaceable friend who both Hannah and Neville love like a sister.

The only time that Neville tells her off outright is when she tells him that Luna is better with Alice than she is. She doesn't know what leads her to say it; depression, exhaustion and years of not being good enough are hard to shake off. She knows that Neville appreciates that, but he is so cross with her. He says that he's watched her watching Alice, and no one else he knows would show that much care or love for the baby, no one will ever do what they do for her.

She storms off angrily to Tom at the pub, and spends the night there in one of his rooms. Tom doesn't say a word, he just lets her in, gives her hot chocolate and tells her to go to bed. She sleeps fitfully and leaves in morning without a word. She returns home, holds her Alice so close that she wets her crown with tears.

Neville hugs the two of them and they stay like that for a long time. Hannah can't ever, ever imagine leaving again. She can hardly remember, in that moment, what drove her to that anyway. She doesn't ever think of leaving again, because the prospect of a life with no Neville, and no Alice in it is too much to bear.

When Tom passes away, he leaves Hannah the pub. It's an incredible legacy to leave behind, and even though she misses Tom, who was a dear, dear friend to her for so many years, the pub is a part of him that's hers now.

Their home in Godric's Hollow is wonderful, it is. It's close to Harry and Ginny, and Ron and Hermione, and not too far from Luna and Rolf, and all the children are there. But as soon as the pub is left to her, she wants that to be home. Though Neville is reluctant, he wants to make her happy, so they move their life to London.

They still see their friends frequently, and they see older friends too, who pass through the pub every day. And Hannah makes a good landlady. It's just like when she used to work there, before leaving to have Alice, and she loves it.

Alice, with her will of fire and immovable impatience isn't too keen on it. She says that she misses James, which Hannah knows is ridiculous because they still see each other at least weekly, and they'll be at Hogwarts together in a few years anyway (though that is a thought which brings tears to her eyes). Frankie is five, four years younger than Alice, and he loves it because he's always been a chatterbox, and being around all these different people everyday is exciting for a child like that.

Being in the pub, Hannah smiles a lot more often, and Neville can see how happy she is. Moving there was the right choice for them. Being able to crawl into bed next to her each night and know that she is going to be smiling never fails to be wonderful.

When he becomes a Professor, that is the thing he misses the most. Even when he was so close to not taking the job, it was Hannah who told him that he should take it. He's glad that he did, and even though she smiles and laughs when she sees him off at the station, there are tears in her eyes that she never quite manages to hide from him.

_You know I want you to be happy. 'Professor Longbottom' suits you._

The years melt into each other, and her children leave her for school, leave school for life, and before she really realises what's going on, she is a grandmother for the first time; closer to sixty (_sixty!)_ than thirty.

She's so completely average, and she notices things about herself that she never did before. Her breasts aren't quite where they once where, she's recognising cellulite that she'd managed not to spot before and she certainly more huggable than she was when she was younger. She's got lines around her eyes and mouth from a lifetime of smiling. But Neville tells her that she's still beautiful, and she believes him. He's never been the sort of man to speak with insincerity, so when he tells her, none of those imperfections matter.

She's still giddy when people call her Mrs Longbottom, when she's out or when she goes to work in the pub (because if she ever stops, she's buggered, so she doesn't, not even when she gets older still, and people start to think she should, she doesn't. She just passes the pub onto her son, and works afternoons). It takes her mind off the fact that her husband isn't there. She might have got her children back from Hogwarts, but her husband is still Professor of Herbology. She misses him, but she loves him, so she does what she has to do.

When she starts to push ninety, she finally starts to slow down, and her body begins to show the toll that time has taken on it. She's old, and the years show, so it really comes as no surprise when she doesn't wake up next morning. Neville kisses her cheek, just like he did when they were shy teenagers.

And before the lights go out for the final time, nothing matters. All her memories melt away. Everything she's ever clung to for comfort turns to dust. She forgets about the children she's given life to, and the tears she's shed, and the times she's laughed and smiled and felt lighter than air.

As Hannah falls into the darkness, she knows that some things _are _eternal, after all.

_I love you, Neville._


End file.
